


Bears and Spiders

by orphan_account



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Arachnophobia, Cannibalism, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Gore, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-02 06:43:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 17
Words: 41,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2803241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhian the Bear is a girl from Helgen with no idea what she should do, at any point of her life. She watches the Dragonborn get beheaded at Helgen. Akatosh has plans for her and makes her the next Dovahkiin. She struggles with the Daedra. She was never meant to be a hero.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not Quite Dovahkiin

**Author's Note:**

> Rape happens, Blood, Gore, Blah blah blah. Further into the story it gets more smut. I have quite a bit of this already typed out and ready to go, so I'll update every other day until I catch up with myself, then I'll update weekly.

Dawn crept forth from the languid horizon. The forest canopy’s shadow began to shrink back against the trees. In the distance, two foxes lurked beneath shrubs. Morning began a new day for Rhian. 

Rhian sat up from her bedroll place in the knee-high grass. She stretched out and instinctively reached out to brush the short wall of brown tundra grass. The grass leaned and swayed with a gentle breeze. She ran her fingers through her short red hair to pull it from her sleep touched eyes. She took a deep breath and stood up. 

She rolled up the bedroll and attached it to the underside of her knapsack, buckling it in. She stared across plane of grass and trees. She had recently left her home in Helgen. After the dragon attack and slaughter of prisoners, Rhian desperately sought peace in nature. 

It was a month after the day she grew a year older, now 16. In the fires she lost her fathers and baby sister. She had returned a few days ago to bury them. Luckily, the embers were scorching and bandits had not yet arrived. She would have had trouble finding the right bodies to bury, if it were not for the fact they were all crushed beneath the roof of her house. 

Rhian had always been a bulky Nord girl. She had muscles that rivaled that of her fathers’. Her strength came in immense use digging her family out of the remains of her home. The entire time she bit back tears, so to properly honor them. They were buried next to the garden behind her home. Though it was against her better judgement, she took from the dead that held no relation to her, namely, the two executed prisoners. One was a Stormcloak, who carried enough gold in his pockets for her to rent a room in an inn for a fortnight. The other was a foreign prisoner, who had apparently been caught crossing the border (or so she overheard). This foreign Breton man had carried an odd amulet. It was an amulet of Akatosh, but it looked as if it was somehow changed and twisted. It now hung around her neck. 

Now Rhian headed for Markarth. Despite the stories of horror she heard from anyone who’d ever so much as seen it, she knew if there was one thing that she could do, it was break rock with a pickax. So she went for work there. She managed to make it to Whiterun, after stopping in Riverwood for a night. 

She planned to enter Whiterun and buy supplies, but was quickly stopped by a guard.

“Closed?” Rhian tried to comprehend what she had just been told. She shifted her weight from one hip to the other, nervously. “What do you mean? The entire city?”

“Yes, now unless you have personal summons from the Jarl himself, you may not enter. Turn and leave, child.” The guard spat.  
“What if I do?” She tightened her posture to one of confidence. She made stern eye contact with the guard, who visually broke beneath it, having not expected it from someone with such a young face. 

“Ha! Wouldn’t that be a riot!” The other guard laughed. “He would have told us.”

“Fine, but you take responsibility for what’s going to happen soon.” She turn on her heel and stormed off.

“Wait!” The guard who she unnerved called. “What do you mean?”

She grinned and slowly turned back around, having only reached the draw bridge.

“You mean, you haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?!” The angry guard questioned.

“The Thieves’ Guild is going to try to take hold in Whiterun.” She said smoothly. She had never really had a sharp tongue, but these guards were particularly dumb, it seemed. “I came to warn you.”

“And how do I know you aren’t with them?” The nervous guard called.

“They don’t admit tykes.” The angry guard jested with a mocking sneer to his friend.

“I am from Riften. I am the youngest daughter of,” she paused trying to remember the name of that intimidating woman she met when travelling with her fathers. “Maven Black-Briar.” 

Both guards looked unimpressed for a moment before cracking a bit. 

“You may enter. Please, go straight to the Jarl to inform him.” The nervous guard said quietly. Rhian entered Whiterun.

 

The city had been the same from when she first went there. Though she was much more familiar with Falkreath, her frequently travelling step-father often took her all over Skyrim on his deliveries. He had been a courier. 

She stepped into the small market to purchase dried meat and fruits, when a small voice she just barely heard pleaded to her. 

“Ma’am, can you spare a coin? I’m very hungry..” the small girl had tugged on the edge of Rhian’s tunic.  
Caught off guard, she stared down at the girl that couldn't be more than seven, and had almost the exact face of her sister. She blinked her surprise away and squatted to make eye contact. 

“Why are you begging?” She earnestly asked.

“I… I’m really hungry,” The small blonde girl almost begged the statement out. “My ma and da…” 

Oh, Rhian realized. She thought for a moment and took a deep breath, realizing this was not a good idea she had formulated in the blink of an eye. 

“Why don’t you come with me? You’ll have all the food you need.” The little girl’s eyes lit up.

“You mean, travelling?” The small blonde almost squeaked. “Out of Whiterun? On an adventure?!” 

For the first time in a month, the corners of Rhian’s mouth broke into a genuine smile. 

“Absolutely. All over, lots of food, plenty of shelter.” 

“Yes!” The girl was practically buzzing. “Let me go get some things!!” 

Rhian stayed in the marketplace and waited. She bought enough food for them both for a week, handing her last septim to a wood elf selling cured meat. She had also obtained a second knapsack. The small girl returned, carrying a dented and dulled iron dagger at her waist and a doll much older than herself in her pocket. 

“Miss, what’s your name?”

“I’m Rhian,” she stated “Rhian the Bear, they called me back home.” Rhian had always been proud of having a title so young. Even if she did get it because of her height and ferocity in hunting. 

“Wow! You have a title!” The girl’s eyes were wide with a smile. “I’m Lucia!” 

“Well, Lucia, the first step of being an adventurer is carrying your own stuff.” She handed the slightly smaller knapsack to the girl. The size of it compared to Lucia was humorous, but the girl didn't push it away or ask not to carry weight. 

Lucia’s knapsack was not nearly as weighted as Rhian’s. Rhian had only put a few septims, a wool blanket, fruit and a map in it. 

The pair headed towards the front gates before Rhian stopped, realizing that the guards would likely ask her about her endeavors to warn the Jarl about the guild and how her lies would quickly catch up to her. 

She took a deep breath and looked around her. Lucia had stopped, curiously looking back at the Bear. Rhian nodded towards a path and the two walked along it, Lucia just a step behind her, taking three steps for Rhian’s every one. They headed towards a back alley that held a tiny, almost gate that allowed water to pass out of the city and back into the stream it ran towards. Rhian kneeled next to it and tugged. 

The bars were strong but old. Rhian pulled until she ripped them out of their place. She ushered Lucia through the hole then shimmied out(with quite a bit of difficulty) and replaced the bars. 

They walked a back ways, to avoid guards and headed towards a road that lead to Markarth. Night was fast approaching as the sun tauntingly sat just above the mountain tops, threatening to drop any second and leave them in the dark. 

Rhian had slowed a bit to accommodate Lucia’s tiny pace. They stopped every now and again to let Lucia rest. The sun was now just behind the mountains, casting a dreadful shadow over them. Realizing it would soon be too dark, Rhian picked Lucia up and put her on her shoulders.

“We have to camp tonight, so I’m gonna find us a safe place to stay.” Rhian assured the girl. She was frightened, but Lucia was too young to know the dangers of the roads so her calm was soothing to Rhian. 

As if the Divines heard Rhian, a Khajiit caravan was visible over the horizon just barely. Rhian walked towards it with a heavy pace. 

“Ri’saad welcomes the strangers,” a low, but familiar accented voice said from a tent. Rhian put Lucia down next to her. Lucia clung to Rhian’s leg, having never seen a Khajiit up close before, and being just slightly intimidated by the claws. 

“Ah, yes, hello,” Rhian said almost nervously. “I was wondering if…” she felt out of place, but immediately realized how they must have felt. 

“Hmmmm?” The near purr held curiosity.

“If we could camp close to the caravan for the night?” Rhian swallowed hard.

The Khajiit man seemed to ponder it for a moment before calling back to a Khajiit woman who was already pitching the hide tent she had apparently planned to stay in. 

 

“What do you think, Khayla?” 

“The strangers are Nords, Ri’saad.” She said cautiously.

“But so young,” The man made up his mind, seeing them as no harm. “Yes, we say you can stay. This one would not mind.” Rhian let out a sigh of relief, not realizing she had been holding her breath. She didn't often have anxiety around people. But being the adult of the two girls made her nervous.

“Thank you, thank you,” Rhian thanked the Khajiit and the Divines before finding a place under a Birch tree. She set up the bedroll for Lucia and sat next to it. 

“Where are you gonna sleep, Rhian?” The little girl asked, but didn't hesitate to curl up in the bed. Lucia hadn't slept in a bed in a year, or even a bed roll. 

“I don’t like bed rolls.” She scrunched up her nose and lied to the girl. “I like the soft grass.” 

Lucia giggled at the odd remark but made no further argument and quickly slipped into slumber as soon as the sun did. Rhian sat against the tree, running a sharpening stone she found in Helgen over the awful iron dagger Lucia had brought. After she did what she could to make it a decent weapon, she sharpened her own. It was a far nicer Steel dagger she bought when travelling with her father to an Orc settlement. She had bought it from a distraught Orc mother she couldn’t remember the name of after Rhian had delivered a sword to the woman’s daughter. 

She replaced both daggers and retook inventory, barely able to see by the tiny lantern light that came from the Khajiit camp. They had no need for it, as they could naturally see in the dark, but she supposed it was there for them. Nonetheless, she was grateful, and counted the only possessions she had. 

5 Apples, 3 large cuts of cured Venison, raw rabbit legs, grilled leeks, a dagger, a map, and 2 septims. She mentally noted, then remembering and an odd amulet I really should get looked at by a wizard or priest. It’s beginning to make me uncomfortable. 

She laid down in the grass, using her knapsack as a pillow. Thoughts flashed through her head, of Helgen, of the dragon, of keeping Lucia safe, of the nice Khajiit man, of a girl she briefly courted in Winterhold. She closed her eyes. Of the possible repercussions of claiming the Thieves’ Guild was going to Whiterun, and me being the daughter of Maven. Before she could too deeply regret anything she fell asleep.

_____

Howls rung out into the grasslands and pierced Rhian’s ears. Darting up from her rudely disturbed sleep, she jerked her head towards Lucia. She was still there, and sound asleep. 

“It’s just a wolf. We’re near a Khajiit caravan. We have daggers.” She whispered to herself. Another howl. 

“That’s not a wolf.” She said just below her breath. The howl was gravelly and rabid. Werewolf. She thought. 

She grabbed her dagger and unsheathed it, standing up and looking around. She noticed the woman named Khayla was also up and armed. They made eye contact. A mutual understanding of what was happening. Khayla’s bright green eyes were almost unnerving. She looked more predatory than a werewolf would. Rhian felt her heart beating in her throat and blood rushing to her head. A howl, closer. 

She looked to Lucia again. Khayla had left, to look for and slay the beast. Rhian briefly humored the idea of following her, or rousing Lucia to stay near the Khajiit people, but decided to stay in place and guard the abandoned camp and orphan. 

Khayla was no where to be found, but being Khajiit, that was almost expected. She could barely be heard in her heavy armor when she wasn’t sneaking about. 

Rhian’s blood ran cold. A snarl. A shuffling of claws in rocky dirt. Too close. She stood in a defensive position, lowering her center of gravity just as da did, and holding her dagger in her right hand, while her left was held in a fist ready to break bones. 

Her eyes fell upon a still black shape just 15 meters from the biggest of the tents. She held her breath as it moved. She saw yellow eyes turn towards her. She slowly moved towards it.


	2. The City of Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucia and Rhian find their way to Markarth, the most friendly city of Skyrim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some violence in this one.

_Run, you idiot._ She heard herself say in her head. _Please, just go find Khayla._ She told herself. The werewolf in front of her posed a threat to her, the caravan, and Lucia. She couldn't let it just in her life there. She survived a damn dragon attack for Akatosh's sake! Rhian was the worst in her family at making decisions, that much was apparent.

She took a deep breath and held eye contact with the growling beast. She approached it and stopped 10 meters from it.

She never let her eyes roam from it; didn’t blink. The beast more loudly growled a threat to her. He may not have actually had the intent of harming anyone, but she couldn't take the chance. Not with the nice Khajiit and the pathetic orphan. He caught the glint off her dagger and sniffed the air, as if to size up what sort of prey she was. Her arms felt light and heavy at the same time as adrenaline coursed through her.

Craccck. The beast’s jaws were on her left forearm before she realized it had moved, and loudly crunched through the bone. She screamed something between a war cry and crying out in pain. She buried the dagger in the wolf’s eye, feeling the ugly beast's jaw loosen its iron grip. As soon as she did, she heard gasps, and a tiny voice scream. Khayla rushed in front of her. Rhian opened her mouth to say something before her vision blurred. She felt incoherent words leave her mouth as she collapsed into the furred arms of the woman in front of her.

___

She awoke midday, lying on a bedroll in a tent. She looked around for Lucia, who was found at her side, face red and puffy from crying.

“What happened? Lucia?” She felt her arm go out to touch the girl’s shoulder. Her arm protested, nervous system lashing out at her sudden actions. She felt as though her arm were going to coil up. She bit back a groan and instead let out a pained breath. Despite trying not to, she alarmed the child.

“Ah, the stupid one is awake.” Ri’saad said and walked into her line of sight. “We thought you had contracted something, so this one gave you a potion.” He almost gloated at his generous deed.

“Thank you, but I can’t pay you back.” Rhian said bluntly.

“That is okay. Technically, you may have saved us, so we have restocked your light bag and taught the tiny one a spell.” Ri’saad’s accent was thick, but comprehensible, even in her lightly delirious state.

“A spell?” Rhian blinked. She was not fearful of mages like most Nords were, but she was still wary of the idea of teaching a small kid a spell.

“Yeah! Look!” Lucia concentrated by closing her eyes and holding out both hands towards Rhian’s arm. A golden light dimly leaked into the wounds and soothed a small amount of pain from the arm.

“Ah! I have a little mage with me now!” Rhian smiled widely, biting back hesitation. “I ought to take you to the College.”

Lucia giggled and stopped the magic, clearly exhausted by the energy it took. It was only a bit of help, but help all the same.

Rhian sat up completely.

“Thank you, for all of this, but we must be out soon, if we want to make any time.” The Bear said a bit shyly, but none less gratefully.

“This one understands,” Ri’saad smiled. “May your feet lead you to warm sands.”

Rhian stood up, a bit lightheaded. She pulled her knapsack over her shoulder, being careful of the wrapped arm. Lucia followed her actions with wary eyes, but did the same. The pair once again set out on the road, thankful for the cool breeze riding the air.

The day went by without strife. They only had to take one brief pause to eat and rest their tired feet. Occasionally, Rhian would put Lucia on her shoulders, fully aware of how tiresome such long distance walking was at a young age.

Rhian purposely avoided towns and villages. On the second day after the caravan however, a rainstorm hit their way. They took shelter in the entrance of a seemingly abandoned cave. She had checked the ashes of fires. Everything was cold and damp. Not as if it had been doused, but had been abandoned for at least a few days.

They slept there for two days before the rainstorm left. They still had a few days worth of food with, and much to Rhian’s surprise, she found Skooma and Sleeping Tree Sap at the bottom of her bag. She made up her mind to not use it, and sell it at the nearest shady fence she could find without putting Lucia in danger. She knew Sleeping Tree Sap was an expensive drug, and smiled at the thought of being financially safe for just a while in Markarth.

Just as she packed up the campsite, she heard rustling from further in the cave. Lucia sat petrified at the sudden noise, but Rhian had her dagger drawn. She looked down at her companion. She squatted to make eye contact.

“Switch daggers with me.” She said. The girl complied. “Stay right here, and do not hesitate to put that in someone’s gut if they come at you.” She instructed sternly, fearful to leave the girl for even a second, but all too knowledgeable at what might happen if she took her with her further into the shadows.

“Be safe!” The girl quietly pleaded before Rhian snuck into the shadows.

Inside the depths of the cave she heard growling. She quickly realized it was a bear, who hadn’t woke, or even noticed the girls. Rhian’s heart stopped at the thought of the bear being able to eat them while they slumbered the earlier days. Rhian snuck up behind it and slit its throat, quietly, quickly, and mercifully as possible.

“It’s safe, Lucia! You can come back here.” She glanced over her shoulder to see a hovering light above the girl. Her heart stopped.

“Who is with you?” She said swiftly.

The girl looked confused. “No one.”

“You did that? The light?”

“Yes.” The girl thought it was normal.

“Ha…” Rhian let herself relax. “I really do have a talented mage at my side.” She smiled at Lucia before digging the claws out of the massive creature. Lucia cringed for a moment.

“It’s okay. It won't hurt the bear now.” Rhian dug her dagger under the skin and began to flay the bear, using a technique one of her fathers taught her. After an hour, the skin was neatly in tact and beginning to dry.

“This’ll fetch a nice price.” Rhian said to herself, cleaning the dagger and switching back with Lucia. The sight no longer bothered Lucia.

Rhian threw the bearskin around her shoulders on top of her knapsack, fur down, to let the skin dry.

After a few more hours of walking, when the sun sat highly in the cold sky, Rhian heard rustling in shrubs up ahead. An argonian with a cowl slinked out of them. He wore elven armor with non matching iron boots, a mage’s hood and held a sword made out of iron.

This sight was the tell tale sign of a thief. Rhian straightened her back and put Lucia behind her with her right arm.

Both the thief and Rhian drew their weapons.

“Hand over your amulet and any money you are carrying.” His voice was cracking, probably from sleep deprivation, at least she thought she saw that in his eyes.

Rhian took the amulet off her neck hesitantly. The thief eyed her, following how her clothes fit her, then his eyes fell upon her face. She was no particular beauty, but she had an alluring stare. However, right now, that alluring stare was replaced with something the thief couldn’t quite read. She held out the amulet and dropped it on the ground at her feet. She made no move for anything else.

They stood there for a moment, the thief sizing her up. Lucia’s grip on Rhian's pant leg trembled.

“Are you going to pick it up, thief?” Rhian dared. Her voice betrayed her, as it held a hint of shake. The thief grinned at this, under his cowl.

His hand reached for it, just as his fingers wrapped around the cord, a foot snapped delicate bones between itself and the rocks of the road. The thief yelled, causing Lucia to jump and scream. The thief pulled a dagger and swiped at the leg, hitting an iron cuff. Rhian brought the hilt dagger behind her head and drove it into the skull of the Argonian. The thief fell to his left and crumpled on the ground.

Rhian’s face had gone pale and her palms sweaty. She replaced the dagger.

“Lucia. I knocked that man out. He stole from people, so it’s okay to take from him. He was going to kill us.” She told the girl, who only nodded in response.

Rhian pulled the hood off of the Argonian, leaving the cowl. She reached in his pockets to find a heavy amount of gold. She pulled it out and added it up to 119. She grinned and put it in her knapsack. She took the dagger he dented her shin cuff with as well as the sword. She picked up the amulet and replaced it around her neck, piece of the point had broken off when she broke the thief's fingers.

She picked up Lucia and put on her shoulders, quickly sprinting off from the scene, fearful he may wake up come after them. Sprinting, despite making her inexplicably exhausted, put them half a day ahead. After two hours of full on running, heaving and feeling like death gripped her legs, Rhian stopped and put Lucia down.

“Did he deserve that?” Lucia asked, truly wondering.

Rhian paused. “He deserved a punch, and maybe lighter pockets, but I do regret stealing his weapon.” She answered honestly. “Show mercy when you fight.” She pointed a finger at the girl. Lucia nodded, face absorbed in her words, like she gained wisdom from it somehow.

That afternoon, they reached Markarth. The city loomed over them, promising nothing more than trouble. Markarth was by no means a beautiful city. It was rocky, cliffy, and shady. But work was there for Rhian. Strangers gave them the third degree and the further they walked into the city, the more Rhian recognized the iron smell being blood and not iron.

They stayed at the inn for the night, Rhian finally sleeping in the bedroll, and Lucia sleeping on an honest to goodness bed. The next morning they ate at the inn. Rhian stayed near the fire. An excellent seat to overhear conversations. Lucia, however had met a small girl, her own age, named Adara. They both fervently and quickly became best friends. Midday arrived, but Rhian was hardly able to move, after yesterday’s fleeing from the thief.

Lucia sat in the chair across from her, hands in her lap, feet dangling and face twisted in an emotion she couldn’t quite think to articulate.

“What’s on your mind?” Rhian said.

“I met a girl named Adara and…” she paused nervously, almost like she was about to cry. “I don’t wanna leave Markarth, are we going to stay here?”

Rhian pretended to ponder the question, as if that hadn’t been the intention all along. She slowly nodded.

“Great! Thanks!” Lucia said so gleefully, Rhian thought her smile would break her face. “ Adara told me stories about a house we could stay in!” The orphan’s words struck her.

“A house?”

“Yes! It’s abandoned and the Jarl doesn’t want anyone to officially own it!” Lucia said excitedly.

Despite the possibility of staying there being considered trespassing, it was certainly better than constantly renting a room at the inn, or worse, being homeless.

“Does your friend know where it is?”

“I do, I do!” The girl, apparently Adara, jumped out from where she had been waiting for her cue. “Follow me!” She grabbed Rhian’s calloused hand and nearly dragged her out of the door. Lucia kept pace with Adara and the one behind them was Rhian.

The girl led them to a bronze-gold colored metal door with an intricate design on it. Dwarven, Rhian recalled. Adara looked a bit too nervous to open the door, so Rhian did, without hesitation.

Both girls ran inside and all three stood in what was probably the parlor. It was so dark that Lucia resorted to casting Candlelight. Adara squealed and the girls began to talk again to each other. Rhian explored a bit. Prodding things. A layer of dust had more than settled on things, and wood rot covered every piece of furniture.

At least it’s truly abandoned. She thought. She went further into the house, assessing, lighting sconces, killing tiny spiders and destroying their webs, and prodding at random books and cooking wares. Our home. She said to herself in her mind.

She reached a door and jostled the handle. It was locked. Rhian looked around for lockpicks but upon finding none, she just placed a table up against the door and blocked that with a bookcase.

“It’s good.” She returned to the two girls. Adara grinned with pride. Rhian handed Adara 10 septims. “Thank you.” The girl stood there for a moment, stunned before regaining her excitement.

“Can we go play outside? I wanna explore!” Hesitation tightly gripped Rhian at Lucia’s words.

“No, not today, little mage.” She slowly shook her head. “Adara, it’s getting late. You shouldn’t worry your parents.” Despite being only noon, the girl got the hint and left. Lucia was disappointed but unsure whether or not to show it.

“But why? We still have daylight..” She finally asked.

“We should make this a home. Tomorrow you can, but I want to go with you.” Rhian said. Lucia’s smile returned. They took rolled linens they found to wipe the dust off. Having no windows made this task more disgusting than it had to be, but it was completed quickly enough. Rhian lit the hearth and unpacked all of their food(and the food she bought from the meat stand in the market) onto the table, to sort it and give it a home.

Lucia made the beds and fished out pairs of clothes from the dressers. She found miner’s clothes, two blue dresses, and a man’s tunic and pants.

Eventually, sleep fogged Lucia and she decided to go to bed. Rhian stayed up. She had managed to tailor the blue dresses to probably fit Lucia and the miner’s garb to fit her, not snuggly, but to where the bagginess wouldn’t hinder her movements.

The next morning, Rhian prepared breakfast and got dressed in the discovered tunic and pants. They were just a bit too big, but cleaner than her own clothes. Later, the two went exploring with Adara as their guide. This put Rhian slightly at ease. She decided as long as the two girls stayed together they could roam--and if Lucia took a dagger. Paranoid as she was, it had saved them both, thrice, on the road, so she stuck to her instincts.

In the afternoon, after a day of exploration and discovery, Rhian crept down to the mines, to see if they needed help. She was immediately greeted by the angry expression of an orc with an iron mace at his waist.

“These workers.” He spoke to himself. “Always complainin.” He shot a glare at one of them. She took a deep breath before approaching him.

“What d’yo want?” He almost sneered at her.

“I came looking for work.” She said sternly. She had a height advantage, being at complete eye level with him almost took him aback.

“Well, you look like you can work..” He mused, assessing what little of the muscle he could tell she had beneath the baggy clothes. “I’ll give ya a chance. You got two days. Prove you worth and you’ll earn what you dig.” He sneered openly this time, as if to let her know he was regularly harsh. She nodded at him.

“Thank you.” She said. Usually, she would smile at the opportunity, but this man didn’t care for smiles from little girls. That much was obvious. A silent and mutual understanding was quickly met. Rhian picked up an abandoned pickax and found a vein of ore left sorely open.

With no one else in proximity of her, she went to work. A few times, she saw Lucia, which relieved her, and seemed to energize her want to work. A few times, a fellow worker would stop, stare at her, and walk away. This began to unnerve her. While rape was almost never an issue with a girl of her size and strength, anyone working tirelessly(or lazily for that matter) in a mine all their life could probably manage to overpower her.

So, she kept her eyes on her work, and dug up a fair amount of ore for what time she had to work. She worked until the sun had slept and the moon loomed high. Mulush gro-Shugurz, the overseer, seemed to stay there 24/7. She finally gave in and hauled all the ore she dug in trips, carried in the loose belly of her shirt. She dumped it where everyone did.

Mulush nodded at her, in borderline approval. She still gave no smile, only a quiet and un-heartfelt “thank you” as she walked along the street to the house where she stayed.

She entered and found Lucia sitting next to the empty hearth.

“Rhia!” She exclaimed. “I waited all night! Look what I can do now!” She jumped out of the chair before giving Rhian a chance to speak, and held her hands out to the fire. Fire erupted in the hearth and roared with untamed ferocity, then settled into a gentle, welcoming flame. Lucia beamed at how Rhian’s face contorted into that of shock and awe.

“Gods be damned, child.” She let her profanity slip, “where did you learn that?” She was clearly impressed by the young mage.

“Aicantar!” She quickly said. “Adara introduced me to the Jarl’s mage’s nephew and he taught me how to make a fire!!” She squeaked.

Rhian smiled again. “Just be careful with who you talk to.”

“I know! No black and gold robes on high elves, No hide armor on a black haired man, and No miners!” Lucia grinned as she revealed the street smart knowledge Adara had relayed to her. Rhian was very much relieved to hear her say such things.

“Good. Now get to bed, little mage.” Rhian’s voice was motherly to Lucia, so she obeyed with gratitude.

Once Lucia was settled in Rhian peeled the sweaty and dust covered clothes from her body and dunked them in a basin full of water. Appreciating the house’s natural coldness, she washed the clothes as best she could and hung them near the door to dry. She moved deeper into the house to where three barrels of water were. She opened one of them and dunked a bucket in. She bathed thoroughly and sighed, muscles screaming at her just to go to bed, that no other miner had hygienic habits, and it wouldn’t matter. She eventually gave in and nearly collapsed in bed.

___

The next few weeks continued on in a pattern. An occasional pat on the back from Mulush (which made her question his motives, or if he was going easy on her), the trip to the market for food, to the inn for a break and night of mead or ale, washing her two pair of miners clothes and bathing regularly, Lucia coming home with a new spell, Adara occasionally coming over, and most suspiciously, a man in Robes of Stendarr eyeing her and Lucia from across the street. But that detail was about to end.

After a few months of Markarth, mining, and soreness under her belt, Rhian finally got fed up with the glaring man, and when she spotted him again, as usual, in front of her damned house, she approached him. She walked with such a ferocious and angry gait that he, despite having a sword at his waist, made to flee. She grabbed his arm and shoved him into the wall of the cliff.

“Why do you watch my house?” She said through gritted teeth. Nearby, a man in hide armor watched.

“I’m a Vigilant of Stendarr, I investigate all.. all Daedric activity..” He said, feeling as though her seething would suffocate him. “I will investigate your house.”

“You will not.” She said plainly.

“But you may be in danger!” At his words Rhian grabbed his collar and shoved him into the rocky cliff-side again.

“No one in danger, certainly not where I live.” She threatened him simply with her tone. She felt a small amount of satisfaction as he visibly gulped back a bit of fear of the young Nord.

“Fine, have it your way.” He brushed her hands away and fixed his robe. “If harm comes to Lucia, remember my offer.”

He turned and walked away, and left Rhian seething now more than ever. How dare he mention Lucia’s name! He had no right to that!

Rhian collected herself for a moment before heading to the mines. Mulush stopped her by grabbing her shoulder.

“A word. Now.” He said, not with contempt, but certainly not with kindness. He led her towards the waterfall, where their words would be masked.


	3. Shredded Innocence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhian finds Markarth even more dangerous than she initially thought, when Thalmor are around. Rape happens in this chapter, towards the end.

“I thought I was working better than the other workers?” She was nervous, and made no attempt to hide it from the overseer.

“You are. But that’s not what I’m worried about.” He shook his head. “Look, you’re not old enough to own property, you can’t afford the inn, and you got a kid.” She knew where this was going. She didn’t like it. “Where the fuck are you stayin?” Now he was angry, each time he made emphasis his grip on her arms tightened.She hesitated to answer before he gave her a look. A look that told her only honesty.

“The abandoned house. Near a bridge.” She hadn’t expected for her words to leave her mouth. He stood there for a second before calming down and releasing his grip.

“I’m a little curious.” For once someone here was. “Where are you two from?” She blinked her surprise away from his odd question. In this city, no one asked questions.

“I’m from Helgen. She’s from Whiterun.” She said bluntly, with no detail, and too many questions left unanswered, but she cared not, because they were also unasked.

“ _Helgen_? The dragon attack?” His eyes almost held pity, but that quickly died.

“Yeah, that’s why I left. Came here for work. Stopped in Whiterun for supplies. Lucia’s orphaned.”

“And that weak arm.” He motioned towards the formerly broke, but still slightly weakened arm.

“Werewolf. Attacked us on the road here.”

All he did was nod. He paused. “You know, I know you’re young and probably, a virgin.” He was too blunt for her. “So I’m gonna warn you, that some of those miners are shady.”

“I know.” Was all she said. “Can I get back to work?”

He nodded and she quickly, quickly left the conversation before it got awkward. She hated talking about that stuff, much less with some Orc overseer who hadn’t actually known her.

She returned to the mine, and got to work on a vein. She hadn’t exactly made friends at work. Actually, the exact opposite. Some man named Cosnach had regularly came to the miners selling Skooma and ale. Many times before he would offer and she’d just say no and loudly mine, hinting that he shouldn’t talk to her, but the last time he came to the mine he had definitely been consuming the Skooma he sold. He wandered around, selling a bottle here or there, then he finally got to Rhian.

“Hey there, Rhianie.” His words were slurred as he supported himself with his shoulder against the rock. His actions were clumsy and slow. “I brought you the good stuff today.”

“Charming offer, but no.” Was all she said before continuing her work.

“Y’know, I know money’s probably pretty tight, when you got that kid and no father in sight.” He approached her from behind. Rhian briefly held the thought of “accidently” swinging her pickax back. But she didn’t have 1000 gold or time to rot in Cihdna Mine. Then she felt hands on her waist. “You don’t gotta pay with money.” He tried to sensually whisper, but it came out more as a sigh.

“I don’t want Skooma or Ale or Mead, leave.” She warned, turning to slap his hands away. He quickly withdrew his hands, surprised by her actions, but enraged nonetheless.

He shoved her with what little his influenced-arms could. She didn’t budge. Instead, she slowly stood up straight, now taller than he was. She turned her head first, then her shoulders, making eye contact.

“Gonna take me up on the offer then.” He grinned. His breath wreaked as he tried to get closer to her.

“Sure. Follow me. We can go back to my place.” She hadn’t even tried to sound convincing. He was too drunk to notice. He happily trailed her, watching her hips move with her less than graceful or sexy gait. They both were greeted with unwelcomed sunlight. Rhian’s eyes quickly readjusted. He threw an arm around her shoulder. Several of the miners watched either confused, fearfully, or knowingly. 

Rhian guided Cosnach up to where the water ran and threw him in. He landed in the cold and iron filled water with a thud, and the loud cracking of ribs. “If you ever touch me again, I will cut off your fingers and toes.” She said coldly before returning to the mine.

She was trailed by snickers by some and scoffs by others. “Cold hearted whore.” She heard someone say under his breath. She briefly mused at turning around, starting something, fighting someone, but decided not to get in trouble with Mulush and city guard.

After the work day she returned home, and immediately went to bed. Lucia healed her tired muscles and calloused skin while she slept. Lucia had turned into quite the healer, and quite the daughter, or sister, or friend, Rhian couldn’t decide.

 

___

 

Rhian awoke to shuffling of feet and Lucia screaming. She jumped out of bed, sword ready, half naked or not, ready to draw blood. She ran into the parlor where she saw Lucia cowering behind a ward and three high elves, one in robes, two in armor standing in the doorway.

“Rhian, sheath your weapon and come quietly or we will have to force you.” The robed one spoke. Her heart beat so quickly she felt light headed. She dropped her sword and the two armored Thalmor quickly seized her arms and bound her wrists behind her back.

“Rhian, no!” Lucia screamed, ward still up, but reaching for the sword.

“Lucia, go stay with Adara and her parents. There’s money to pay them for food in the basement--” Rhian was being tugged out the door. Lucia’s cries ripped at Rhian’s heart. “I’ll be back, my little mage!” Rhian cried to her. “Don’t worry about me. Just be safe--Be safe, Lucia!!”

She screamed as she was yanked into the street. Several people she knew, well or not watched as the Thalmor dragged her to Understone Keep in nothing but her night-tunic and socks. She steeled herself and kept pace with them, chin held high. A few of the citizens (known stormcloaks, she thought) gave her approving glances. Others scorned her, surely thinking the “runaway whore” had committed some horrible crime.

 

____

 

Cihdna Mine was just how they described it. Dusty, dirty and hopeless. Rhian descended creaky wooden stairs and, like a moth, flocked to the flame of a small campfire, to warm her bruised hands.

“Ah… You look young enough to be one of these’s mens’ daughters.” A eerily calm old man spoke up from his place in front of the small campfire.

“I shouldn’t be in here.” She shook her head and shivered, missing her warmer miner clothes. “Got a job to do. Don’t wanna piss off Mulush by disappearing.” She crossed her arms and tucked her hands into them to keep what little heat she had.

“I’m sure it won’t be too much different. Except here you work for food.”

“Mm.” Was the only acknowledgement she gave him.

“What’d you do?” He asked. “Murder? Thievery? Assault?”

“Framed for Talos worship. Thalmor.” The man grinned.

“You won’t be in here for long then, but keep to yourself, and you won’t be too damaged upon leaving.” His words got under Rhian’s skin, even though she tried to keep their conversation short.

“Got a daughter to get back to.” She said almost to herself more than him. She hadn’t bothered with the whole ‘no, she isn’t my daughter, but I’m raising her’ spiel. The man’s eyes reflected something akin to worry, grief, and pity.

She supressed her feelings and walked further into the mine. She talked to a few of the other miners as she earned her keep. Duach had offered her Skooma, “For free, since it’s your first time.” He winked and she ignored the subtle hints of something she wanted to not think about. However, she needed it.

She downed the bottle and isolated herself from the others. Every muscle that had been previously tensed and in pain relaxed under the soothing wave of a high. Her head was swimming. She laid down on the floor and curled up. She was muttering something incoherent, and in the back of her mind, she imagined how silly she looked. Rhian heard foot steps and sat up, gripping her pickax. The skooma made her paranoid. An elderly and clearly uncomfortable man grabbed her upper arm and pulled her to her feet. Or tried to.

“You gotta come with me.” Grimsvar said. He dragged her through the mine and shoved her towards the giant Orc with a skull painted on his face.

She staggered to maintain her balance, nervous but ready to fight. When had she lost her pickax? He grinned a grin of a predator. He gave no warning before grabbing her ponytail and pushing her front into the rocky wall. She struggled and tried uselessly to kick him as he ripped and tore her clothing from her.

“Sss--” she gasped as the cold mine air gripped her bare stomach. “Stop it!” She shoved and pushed and threw her arms behind her, one fist making contact with his jaw. She heard him snarl as he grabbed both hands tightly. She felt her left wrist crack and let out a scream.

“If you don’t stay still I will let the other prisoners have you once I’m done.” He growled lowly in her ear, reaching around to prod and kneed at her breasts.

“Please..” she begged through her stupor “I’mm too young… Virgin…” She tried in vain to articulate a sentence. She felt him chuckle in disbelief and pulled down her smalls.

He idly brushed his rough hands against her before shoving two fingers in. She gasped and shivered, feeling her lower belly tighten in response.

“Damn, you really are a virgin.” He grunted before digging teeth into her neck, eliciting a defeated groan from the girl. He started to move his fingers, enjoying the feeling of her spasming against them, against her will. She felt herself loosen a bit as her body accepted the pleasure.

“You want this as much as I do.” His breath was hot against her ear. “You want me to defile you.”

“Don’t…” The skooma and threat of gang rape kept her still, but still she begged. “Please…”

He fished himself out of his pants with his other hand. He lined up with her and just barely inserted himself, met with tight resistance. He slowly pushed in, revelling in her breathy gasps and moans.

“Gods, you’re responsive.” He growled and pulled out, only to thrust in, this time not bothering to be gentle now that she was somewhat adjusted to his size.

She screamed, feeling herself rip. Tears stung her eyes. She glance back to find his eyes dead locked on hers, filled with malicious lust. She looked behind him to see one of the guards simply watching. _Sick bastards_. He thrust in again, more roughly, and only getting a whimper out of her. He began to pick up the pace, holding her face to the scratching rocks. He continued to pump into her, occasionally marking her neck and back with bite marks, and bruises. After what seemed like an eternity of pleasureless humping for her, she felt him empty himself into her and letting go of her.

Her knees buckled and shoulder scraped against the rough rock as she slid down. Not even the skooma helped to ease some of the pain. She held her stomach and leaned against the wall. Borkul put himself away and entered a barred hallway. He glanced down at her before disappearing. She tried to cover herself with her ripped clothing.

She wanted nothing more than a hot bath, and to settle in my her hearth while Lucia showed off a new spell. Cihdna mine was much too cold for her. She rolled up beneath the wooden stairs and wiped blood from her face, neck and thighs.


	4. Embassy pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of our narrative of Rhian the Bear as she is taken by the Thalmor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I updated early, but I get to break rules that I make. Besides, I have this thing finished, all I have to do is edit it now, which means I should be posting the rest of it in the next few days.

 

The Thalmor came a few days later, collected her, redressed her, and began to escort her to their Embassy, north of Solitude. It was a long, harsh walk. Though, along the way, several stormcloak soldiers saw her, a Nord, taken by Thalmor, and immediately tried to free her, only to be quickly put down.

 

When they made it to the Embassy she was put in an odd cell, arms shackled to the wall in front of her. She saw a Breton in the cell next to her.

 

“I do _not_ worship Talos!” Rhian shouted, fighting her shackles.

 

“It doesn’t matter now, prisoner.” Ondolemer said smugly. “You were made an example, and we even got a new test subject to help train a new recruit integrator on.” Those words sent shivers down her spine that she didn’t try to hide.

 

“That’s!-- That’s illegal! This is assault! _Kidnapping_!” She screamed at him.

 

“Quiet, Nord.”

 

She hushed. Ondolemer exited the room entirely and she hung her head. She would have much rather have been in Cihdna Mine.

 

“Talos worshiper, eh?” The Breton man in the next cell said.

 

“No, I was framed for that.”

 

“Heh. Sure. At least own up to it, kid.” He scolded her. He didn’t sound old enough to call her ‘kid’.  “Denying it won’t help you now.”

 

“I’m not denying anything!” She felt tears of rage or grief come to her eyes. She calmed herself down. “It haven’t worshipped him since it was outlawed. I haven’t owned an amulet of him in years.”

 

“But.. you’re a Nord.” He sounded skeptical.

 

“So? What, am I a stormcloak and the Dragonborn as well?” She scoffed at him.

 

“Well, I don’t know, but if you could shout me out of here, that would be wonderful.” He grinned.

 

“I’m not.”

 

“That’s unfortunate. Where are you from, girl?” The man said smoothely. She was suspicious that he didn’t truly care, but just wanted to hear  about the outside world. He looked like he had been in there quite a while, so being reminded of its existence, she supposed, might help him keep his hopes up to see it one day. She appeased him.

 

“Helgen”. She closed her eyes to visualize it. It was a dark village, but beautiful and homely to her. At night, she could hear could hear very distant shouting coming from the Throat of the World. Growing up, it was like a lullaby to her.

 

“Helgen? Didn’t a dragon attack there?” She heard the surprise in his voice. “I was told only some Imperial survived!”

 

“Got out after I watched the second execution. Couldn’t stand to watch it. Then the dragon attacked. I was outside the village, and just... ran.” She sighed. “Left a family in the ashes.”

 

“I am sorry for you.” He almost sounded genuine. “--Wait, Ondolemer is from Markarth, how did you get here?”

 

“After Helgen, after I buried my fathers and sister, I decided to go to Markarth, for work. Always been strong.” She smiled, becoming nostalgic. “Rhian the Bear, they used to call me.”

 

He snorted and she turned an angry gaze over to him. “What is funny?” she said harshly as possible, to cover up her embarrassment.

 

“Why? Are you _hairy_ as one?” He laughed again.

 

“No, I’m _built_ like one! Tall, muscular!” She calmed down, seeing the humor in it. “And I used to sleep a lot. Whole town thought I was on skooma.” She paused. “What’s your name? Where are you from?”

 

“Etienne Rarnis. From Riften.” He smiled a toothy and boyish grin. What he lacked in charm he certainly made up for in looks.

 

“Thieves Guild.” She said, not realizing she had opened her mouth to speak. That took him by surprised.

 

“How… how did you know?” He wasn’t frightened, just unsure of her motives. “Are you here to jailbreak me?”

 

“How I wish, and no, I didn’t know. I just assumed. From Riften. Not Black-Briar. Being interrogated.” She shrugged.

 

“Damn, child. You would make a good thief with that analysis level.” He sighed. “Reminds me of Brynjolf.”

 

“Ah… I don’t know who that is.”

 

“Good.” He said. “That means you didn’t buy some overpriced watered down _ Nirn Root_ _._ ”

 

This time she snorted with laughter.

 

“It’s true! If you hear his speech, it makes you want to buy something he’s trying to sell! Bastard’s got a tongue sharp as a blade.”

 

“Is he your leader, or Captain or something?”

 

“Hardly.” He rolled his eyes. “An old grump named Mercer Frey is. Doubt he’ll send someone to come find me.” Rhian saw regret and agony in the Etienne’s eyes.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Do you have anyone who’d wanna look for you?”

 

“I.. I hope she doesn’t. Lucia.” She almost choked the words out. Her eyes burned again with the threat of tears. “She became the light of my life. I can’t imagine what the Thalmor would do to her.”

 

“Wife? Sister? …. Daughter?”

 

“Orphan in Whiterun.”

 

“Wait, what? That makes no sense, you can’t adopt a kid.”

 

“I didn’t adopt her. She followed me to Markarth. Stayed with me. She’s a little mage.” Rhian remembered with a smile.

 

“Little mage, eh? You’re okay with that? … Being a Nord?”

 

She shot him a glare. “My personal lack of magical talent does not mean others cannot have it or use it.”

 

“Not a stormcloak then.” He chuckled.

 

“Etienne… are they going to kill me?” She suddenly killed the nervous but laughable atmosphere.

 

“I have no idea, kid. Say, how old are you anyway?”

 

“Seventeen, I think.”

 

“By the Gods, you’re too young to be here.” He said, almost in a way of pity, but more shock.

 

She felt tears raise to her eyes. “I’ll survive. I survived Helgen. I survived a werewolf. I survived thieves and bandits. I’ll survive _these_ pompous assholes. Besides, you don’t sound much older.” She felt her breath catch on ‘thieves’, hoping to not offend her new friend, but he showed no sign of it.

 

“You’ve been through a lot already.”

 

“I assume the same for you, hm?”

 

“You could say that.” He grinned at her. “Nice to have company now, though.”

 

_____

 

“Stop!” Rhian screeched, writhing against her iron shackles. A Thalmor man grabbed her bare hips. He sent electricity into her once again, evoking spasms from her, and her eyes to roll back.

 

“That’s it--but not so much force. Don’t stop her heart.” A woman behind him instructed.

 

“I’m not _trying_ , Elenwen.” He spat, annoyed. Rhian shook violently even after he stood up.

 

This cycle continued for several weeks. Rhian lost track of time, but assumed it was sometime in winter(which here, was more than half of the year). Through this time, she got well acquainted with the attractive thief.

 

One morning, however, she woke up to a blanket of needles pressed into her sides. She hardly moved. She jerked her head to Etienne, who had a black eye and his chest full of scabbed over gashes. He looked at her with worry.

 

“Now this is very sensitive, Enemar. If you put them in the wrong place, she’ll bleed out.” Elenwen scolded. Indeed, as Rhian glanced down she saw a puddle of blood beneath her. They were bleeding her. She began to hyperventilate.

 

“Well don’t do _that,_ you stupid broad.” He spat. She tried to calm down, trembling and shaking.

 

“Get used to it. Especially with Nord girls.”

 

Rhian screamed and would have most definitely had been crying, if she hadn’t been so dehydrated. She felt so weak and faint. Her head lolled to one side.

 

“Good. You seem to have got it done right. Too pliable to scream or resist.” Elenwen praised him.

 

“Of _course_ I did it right. I was an assistant to my father for years!”

 

They both chattered as they left. Rhian shivered. All of her extremities were freezing. She felt her body barely being able to breathe.

 

“Hey.. don’t go to sleep.” Etienne warned. “Stay awake. You’re freaking me out, Rhia.”

 

“Hm?” She felt her head move and her eyes just barely opened to meet his. He held genuine concern in his facial expression.

 

“You can’t die. Think about Lucia.” She sighed and blinked, trying to blink sleep away. He knew her weakness.

 

“You’re right.” She said. “My resolve’s almost broken.” She laughed a bit.

 

“Don’t talk like that--look at me! I haven’t talked in 4 months-- _please,_ stay awake, Rhia.” By Akatosh, he really was worried.

 

“I won’t sleep. But you gotta make me a promise.” Rhian watched the handsome Breton's face, somewhere between dead and wistfully.

 

“Yeah, what? Maybe.” He felt worried.

 

“I wanna join the Thieves Guild.” She slurred.

 

He laughed a little, taken back by the notion of it.

 

“I… I don’t…” he hesitated. She was serious. “You should talk to Brynjolf about that.--What would you even do there? You’re clunky. Can’t sneak.”

 

“Hired muscle or something.” She was nodding off. “Or a Companion. I wanna join the Companions… Used to know the twins there when I was a kid. “

 

He realized she was rambling and sighed. She lost more blood than she was supposed to, to still be okay.

 

She turned over and yelped, being harshly reminded of the needles. A guard approached her and sighed. He took the needles and just barely healed her. She sighed in relief.

 

“Thank you, Lucia... “ The guard rolled his eyes and walked away. “Wait! _No!_ Don’t go down there! _Don’t go into the basement!_ I told you it’s _off limits!”_ She raved, thrashing around, hitting her head, screaming. “ _Lucia, don’t go into the basement, it’s dangerous down there!”_

 

Etienne stared at her, eyes wide with horror as she nearly foamed at the mouth, she had become so quickly rabid. The guard scoffed and left.

 

She began to sob. “Please don’t take her, please don’t take her, _please don’t take her, take me, not her._ ” She cried loudly.

 

“Rhia!” Etienne yelled. “Rhia, snap out of it.” She jerked her head towards him. Sweat caused her hair to stick to her forehead. Her pupils were dilated with terror. She was hyperventilating. She stared at him for a few minutes. He was slowly unnerved by her unblinking and mad stare.

 

“Rhia… you look like Sheogorath cursed you… stop looking at me like that.” He said quietly, but got no response. “ _By the Gods_ , snap out of it!”

 

Then she did. It took her a moment to recover, but she stared at him until she did. “What? What did I do?”

 

“Raving about a basement, and Lucia.” Etienne spoke with worry.

 

“Ah… yes.”

 

“Elaborate.”

 

“I can’t.”

 

“It’s just me.”

 

“Molag Bal.” Was all she said, still staring at him like a mad man.

 

“Molag Bal in your basement?” His brow knitted in confusion and disbelief. She was surely still hallucinating.

 

“Well, not _my_ basement. _His_ house.” She shuddered when she thought of it like that. “An abandoned house in Markarth. All we could afford to live in. It was nice until I broke down the basement door. The Daedra tried to send me to find some priest. Trapped me. Instead, I…”

 

“Don’t leave me like that, You what?”

 

“I lead a Vigilant of Stendarr into the basement.. and … killed him.-- I had to appease him _somehow!_ He could have hurt me or _Lucia!_ He’s not one of the Daedra to just take your soul.”

 

“Rhia… you associated with a _Daedra.”_

 

“Because I had to! His anger was a threat to me and Lucia.”

 

“You killed a man at an altar of a Daedra?”

 

“I-- I-- not-- …” She felt herself shrivel up into her shackles. “I never wanted to--I didn’t even take my ‘reward’. I’m not a vampire. That bloody mace..”

 

Etienne said nothing more.

 

 


	5. Embassy pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrapping up things at the friendly, neighborhood Embassy, here. Ends in Solitude. Rape happens in the middle, so if you aren't okay with that shit, please skip it.

Rhian heard rustling, felt heat, then heard screaming. Her eyes shot over to the cell next to her. One of the new recruits had fire in his palms and was pressing it against Etienne’s thighs.

 

“Tell us where Esbern is! We know your kind protects him down there!” He hissed, pressing a frost spell against the seared flesh. Etienne screamed again.

 

“I told you _all_ I know!”

 

“You told us he’s protected by you, but where?!”

 

Etienne bit his tongue so harshly blood spilled from his mouth. The guard next to the interrogator quickly healed it to prevent him from biting it off. Etienne let out a defeated sob.

 

“Where, and we will stop.” The interrogator said quietly.

 

“ _Never._ ” Etienne hissed after his failed attempt at being rid of his tongue. The interrogator stood up from his crouching position.

 

“Never, hm? We’ll see.” He looked over at Rhian, who was watching with wide eyes.

 

“Don’t! She has _nothing_ to do with this.”

 

“Ha! Look at that! The thief has a heart.” He said in mock pity. The interrogator looked back at a few of the guards, then turned and left to talk to them.

 

“Don’t tell them anything--,” Rhian whispered quickly. “I don’t care what they do. Don’t tell them, Etienne. I don’t know what they want to know--but don’t tell them.”

 

Etienne desperately wanted to say that he wouldn’t, but he had grown fond of the Nord girl. He snapped his head back when he saw movement. Two of the guards entered her cell. Rhian felt her heart speed up to the point of almost stopping. One of them unshackled her wrists and pulled her to her feet. The muscles in her legs protested after being in that awful position for so long.

 

One of the guards held her arms behind her back while the other made work of what little scraps of clothes she was given. She shut her eyes tightly, trying to block out what she knew was going to come.

 

_“Ugh._ Why do _I_ have to be the one to do this?” The guard complained, causing Rhian to look away in shame. “Nord girls have the _ugliest_ bodies out of all humans.” He spat on her.

 

Rhian felt tears sting her eyes as the guard probed at her body, feeling, prodding, pinching, anything to cause her to jump or flinch. The guards laughed at her responses.

 

“Turn her over. I can’t fuck her if I’m looking at her.” He hissed as the other guard turned her around and forced her down on hands and knees.

 

She heard metallic armor being pushed aside or removed. She screamed at the sudden penetration, which granted her a harsh smack across the face. She flinched again and turned her head away from Etienne, who was crying from guilt. Don’t tell them anything, you stupid thief.

 

The guard forced himself into her quickly, again and again until he spent himself inside of her.

 

“Only thing Nord girls are good for, and hardly that.” He said harshly, digging metallically gloved fingers into her breasts. “Hey, your turn.” Rhian felt her heart sink as the other guard walked behind her, undressing himself enough to fuck her.

 

As soon as that one was done, a third and fourth entered her cell, making vulgar comments about her backside and womanhood, slapping, kicking or spitting on her.

 

One of the new torturers had his turn with her, using some sort of healing spell to make her suitable for him.

 

“Ha! I think she’s enjoying it!” He jousted, feeling her twitch around him. He pulled her head back by her hair. “You are, aren’t you?”

 

“N-Nno!” She spluttered out past her sobs, trying her best to get away.

 

“Your body betrays you then, whore. You’re twitching and clenching all around me.” He said in her ear. “I think you’re about to cum.”

 

Surely enough she did almost as soon as he started thrusting into her again. She shuddered, clenching at the ground. Her face was red enough to be mistaken for the color of blood. Sweat or tears dripped from her eyes.

“Well, since you’re _enjoying_ this so much, I’ll go tell the other guards they have my permission to use you.” He whispered, loud enough for Etienne to hear as well.

 

“No! Don’t--please--don’t!” Rhian cried, screaming.

 

“Wait! I’ll tell you! Esbern is in the Rat Way! He’s in the Rat Way! Stop this!” Etienne yelled, between horrified and furious.

 

“Too late. It will happen. But thank you for your _cooperation,_ Breton.” The torturer stood up and tucked himself back into his robes. “This time, no one will be there to heal you, whore.”

 

Rhian curled up in the farthest corner of her tiny cell before being dragged out and pinned down by a couple more Thalmor guards.Some of the female guards used her as well, forcing her to perform oral. They used her until each of them were satisfied.  They left her unshackled, but quickly locked the cell.

 

She sat, clenching her belly. Dried semen and blood mixed to the color of pink and crusted over on her thighs and lower body. She curled up again, burying her face in her arms and weeping uncontrollably.

 

“I’m so sorry…” Etienne said, his own voice breaking with tears. He looked over to her. She was quiet now, quiet as a corpse. “ _Rhia, I’m so sorry._ ”

 

____

 

After a month, there had been much of the same torture for the both of them. Etienne was completely broken, used for the same reason she was. Rhian held onto some sort of hope still. For good reason.

 

Upstairs, she heard talk of a partygoer killing Thalmor agents and guards. Etienne’s groans of pain and agony almost stifled her hope, until she saw a large man with a two-handed sword walk openly down the stairs, slaughtering everyone in his path.

 

He dug some sort of books out of the chest Rulindil kept to his desk. He glanced down at the two  with pity in his eyes. He managed to open Etienne’s shackles. He turned to Rhian’s cell and worked with lockpicks, then Rulindil’s key, then frowned. He made brief eye contact and that broke Rhian.

 

“You can’t be serious…” Etienne said, shocked. “Give me those!” He grabbed the lockpicks and tried his hand at it. “By the Eight…” The last lock pick had snapped. He reached through the bars and stroke Rhian’s hair, an attempt to comfort her. That was the first time they’d made contact, she happily leaned into it. “I’ll be back with someone who can figure this out. I promise.”

 

“--Find _Lucia._ Leave me here.” Rhian said harshly.

 

“Absolutely not! I’ll find her but, I’m not going to _leave_ you here.”

 

“Damnit, you thief, do what I say! Leave me! Go now, I hear guards! Run!” She hissed.

 

The man and a Wood Elf dragged Etienne through the door that bodies went through. She watched them leave and clenched her eyes shut tightly. Tears spilled over, but she did her best not to make a sound. She was alone in the room now.

 

For the past four months of Oblivion’s worst treatment, she had grown accustomed to the man’s snarky remarks, and hearing his labored breathing, now there was nothing. She rested her head against the wall and accepted her fate of staying here forever. She glanced out of the window. Would he find Lucia? How many more spells had she learned?

 

She wept in silence.

 

___

 

“You know where they went! Tell me!” Elenwen hissed, preparing a Frost spell in her hand. She kneeled. “Tell me, you stupid Nord!”

 

“I don’t know where they went!” Rhian cried and panicked as Elenwen’s hands drew closer to her face, before resting over her left eye. Rhian screeched. The frost froze her tears into her sensitive flesh.

 

“Tell me, and I will stop!” Elenwen screamed so Rhian could hear her. “Where did the information go?! Who took it?!” Rhian’s scream only seemed to become louder, more forced.

 

“Stop! I--I can’t see-- _Stop!”_ Rhian begged. “Please! I don’t know! I don’t know! _I can’t see!_ ” Elenwen pulled her hand away. She looked at the girl. One eye was frozen, white, cataract. The deep brown had faded completely. The skin around it was black and reddened and held small crystals of ice. Rhian had lost consciousness. Elenwen scoffed.

 

“Weak.”

___

  
  


A year and a half had passed since Etienne was rescued. Rhian desperately hoped he was going to return for her. In fact, the only reason she told him not to, was because she didn’t want to get her hopes up.  False hope was more cruel to her than never leaving.

 

That hope was what she held onto, but every foot fall of a Thalmor agent withered it a bit. One day however, one particular guard made eye contact with her. A rare occurrence. She held it a bit before glancing away.

 

The guard every now and then would cast lingering glances on Rhian. However tender they were, Rhian feared them, and that pulled the heart of the guard painfully. Eventually, the guard began to bring her extra food, more water, occasionally a potion to help her sleep, but every time their hands touched, the guard’s heart fluttered, and Rhian’s stopped in fear.

 

“Please, don’t fear me, Rhian.” She said so softly it sounded like a feather would if it had a sound. Rhian had always thought the Altmer a beautiful race. This woman was definitely proof of that. She was the same age as Rhian, and had the prettiest eyes that Rhian had seen. Whenever they made eye contact, Rhian would linger in them, frightened but intrigued, like seeing a bear stop in front of her, and not attack.

 

“I-- you--” Rhian hadn’t been able to articulate words for the past 4 months. “Nice? No harm?”

 

The guard felt her heart almost break. They had broken her words, her body, and were slowly withering her will.

 

“Yes. I’m nice. I won’t hurt you.”

 

Rhian smiled, hesitantly, then widely. “You name?”

 

“‘You name?’” She pondered. “--Oh! My name. It’s Ancanus. Daughter of Ancano.” She smiled. “Your’s is Rhian.”

 

Rhian smiled and nodded. “Thank the guard.”

 

“You’re welcome.” Ancanus knew she shouldn’t have talked to the sweet Nord girl, but she was captivated by her. She briefly wondered if she felt love towards her, but pushed the thought away as if it embarrassed her.

 

Ancanus heard foot steps and returned to her position before signing to Rhian not to talk about this. Rhian understood but her eyes still showed sadness. She had been broken so many times, that she was raw emotion, unfiltered.

 

“Ancanus, prepare the isolation room. Put the Cannibal in there and lock it tight.” Elenwen said upon entering and brushing her hair back. “We are testing a new strategy with him, today.”

 

Ancanus showed no hesitation, but felt every muscle in her body pleading her mind not to follow the command. She left the room.

 

Elenwen turned to Rhian, a ghastly elegant and beautiful smile on her face.  She unlocked the cage and pulled Rhian up by her hair. She stared at her one white eye and smiled, feeling some sort of wretched pride in taking half of the girl’s sight.

 

Rhian’s mind had slipped considerably recently, and she no longer needed to be led by rope, chain, or blade. Elenwen guided her to a room with an inforced steel and wood door.

  
  


She pushed Rhian inside and locked the door. The room was empty save for wall sconces on each of the four walls. There was a wiry Nord man huddled over himself in a corner.

 

“Hello.” Rhian said with a curious smile and one searching, brown eye. “Rhian, you have name Cannibal?”

 

The man stood up, staring at her with wide, equally mad and lost eyes.

 

“Ahhh! Thank you, Namira!” He suddenly fell to his knees again and yelled. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou--so pretty, pretty, pretty.”

 

Rhian jumped at his sudden outburst, clearly uncomfortable.

 

“Pretty little meal!” His eyes danced along her and he jumped on her knocking them both over. Rhian’s head hit the back of the door and they collapsed. The Cannibal immediately started pulling off her smalls and biting, licking and scratching her flesh, all over.

“Stop!” She screeched, flinging her fists at him. Despite being formerly a sturdy girl, she was weakened from her imprisonment.

 

The man started to break skin. Rhian screamed, beating her fists and head against the door.

 

He took a chunk out of her, just above the hipbone.

 

“Help! He’s gonna eat me! Help!” She cried. She screeched so loudly that Ancanus, despite being across the building, in the barracks, heard her. Her blood ran cold. Had Elenwen put her with that spawn of Namira?

 

Ancanus came running. Elenwen was in front of the door, a smirk on her face. She saw Ancanus.

 

“Came to join the fun, hm?”

 

“Oh--I thought that screech came from one of us.” She lied flawlessly. “Nevermind then.”

 

“Don’t want in on it?” Elenwen questioned. “Just as well, I wouldn’t want to see the mess once he’s done either.”

 

Ancanus returned to the barracks, pacing, devising, trying her best to scheme. She heard another screech, and then another, the second and third were so terrifying to her that she abandoned her Thalmor-trained thoughts and grabbed her sword. She ran, sword readied, running at Elenwen.

 

Elenwen saw it and stopped her with a paralyzing spell. She scoffed.

 

“I knew your useless father could never spawn a child good enough for the Embassy.” She spat as Ancanus twitched and glared up at her.

 

Things went quiet behind the door. Ancanus’s heart stopped almost indefinitely. Elenwen turned towards it, confused.

 

“Odd… I hadn’t expected him to kill her yet.” She opened the door, another spell ready.

 

Rhian stood right behind it, crying. She was far too petrified to move. She didn’t need the paralyzation spell. Elenwen glanced down at the Cannibal. His eyes were gone, face completely red with his own blood. Rhian had thumbed his eyes in to kill him.

 

“You made me kill him..” She finally said a proper sentence. “I kill..”

 

“Right..” Elenwen looked her up and down, then glanced to Ancanus. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

 

“Truly?” Rhian had said, almost unwary of Elenwen’s obvious trap.

 

“This way, Nord.”

 

Rhian followed her to a room in the barracks with a giant wooden tub. Elenwen shoved her in it. It held no water. Rhian sat in it and curled her knees to her chest. Ancanus entered, still twitching with the after effect of the spell.

 

“Just in time.” Elenwen said proudly. She swerved to her and took the hilt of her dagger to Ancanus’s temple. She fell in front of the tub. Rhian whimpered.

 

“Not the nice Thalmor… Rhian loves the nice Thalmor…” Rhian almost cried.

 

“And it seems she abandoned and betrayed her race for some fleeting lust after you.”

 

Elenwen pulled the Cannibal’s corpse with a spell over the edge of tub and slit open his throat and chest. Blood spilled in the tub and splashed Rhian. She whimpered and tried to get away from it. After a while, the Cannibal’s corpse held no more blood, for Rhian sat in it.

 

“Not quite enough, hm?” Elenwen mused. The Nord girl shook uncontrollably. “You did this, you know.”

 

Elenwen picked up Ancanus by her collar and leaned her over the tub. Ancanus rustled awake and made eye contact with Rhian. She opened her mouth to say something, but Elenwen’s blade stole the words from her throat. Rhian screamed again, sobbing and holding the beautiful Altmer’s face.

 

“Don’t touch her.” Elenwen hissed. “You filthy Nord.” Rhian scrambled back, but kept staring at the body.

 

After Ancanus’s body was also drained, Elenwen grabbed Rhian by the hair and dunked her under the blood. Rhian thrashed and struggled, coming out with a gasp, sputtering blood out of her mouth, trying to rub her eyes, only to be forced back under. The blood covered every inch of her.

 

Elenwen did this for the next 3 hours, until the last time when Rhian stopped struggling and tried to drown, inhaling the blood.

 

The leader of Skyrim’s Thalmor pulled the coughing girl out of the tub and followed her back to her cell. Rhian crawled in, naked, cold, with blood drying in a crust on her skin, in her cuts and chunks of missing flesh. She stared at the ground.

 

____

 

She heard rustling from the body shute. She simply stared at it. A familiar face emerged. Etienne, with a much older man, who seemed to have a permanent scowl, and the wrinkles to prove it.

 

When they both had emerged, Etienne almost didn’t recognize her. He stared, unable to form words at her.

 

“Rhia..?” He said gently. “Divines, what did they do to you--”

 

“Etienne, move you moron.” The man shoved him and started to work on the lock.

 

The lock popped open.

 

Etienne rushed in. He pulled Rhian to her feet and dragged her through the escape. He was careful not to touch a wound, but with her entire body coated in thick blood, it was impossible to tell if he was or not. She didn’t say anything, didn’t move without provocation.

 

“This is the girl I’m risking my ass to help you save?” The old man hissed. “She’s not even that attractive.”

 

“Shhh.” Etienne hissed at him and removed his cloak to put it around Rhian. Rhian gladly accepted it. She tugged it closer, completely closed around her. The small movement gave Etienne a sense of relief.

 

They escaped in silence the rest of the way to find two horses. Etienne put Rhian on one of them and mounted the horse to sit behind her. She appreciated the warmth and leaned into it.

 

“Don’t you think she’s too young for you, Etienne?” Mercer said again, without any concern of who heard him. They were far enough away, whoever would hear, would not be Thalmor.

 

“It’s not like that.” He emphasized. “I’m not trying to bed her, I’m trying to _save her_.”

 

“I will never understand you.” Mercer sighed. “As long as I get my pay though, what you do to the tyke isn’t my concern.” He shrugged.

 

Etienne rolled his eyes. It wasn’t long before they arrived in Solitude. Guards and citizens stared at Rhian’s face in fear, mostly hidden, but red peaked out. They made their way to the inn and Mercer went in one room, Etienne--the other.

 

After they got remotely settled in, Etienne guided the still-cloaked Rhian down to the cellar who was too struck to say anything still. He led her to a bath unit. He hesitantly leaded her towards it. She simply stood there, staring at the steaming water, eyes wide. He knitted his brow.

 

“Afraid of baths?” He asked, but with a twinge of concern, instead of the impatience that Mercer emitted from every pore.

 

“No…” She pulled off the cloak. In front of anyone else, this would have embarrassed her. However, after being in neighboring cells, witnessing horrors, it didn’t affect her with Etienne. He’d already seen anything when the guards took advantage of her regularly.

 

She hesitantly stepped into it. Crusted, smeared blood scattered away from her body. The water held some sort of soap or oil. It smelled of Lavender. Etienne picked up a bucket and poured warm water through her hair. She flinched and screamed.

 

“Oh Gods, are you hurt? I’m sorry--did I hurt you?” He flinched at her screaming. He was so gentle and careful, it was as if he was on pins and needles.

 

She just stared at him with wide eyes.

 

“Your eye…” He reached out and touched the skin around it. “What did they do?”

 

She felt tears come back. She wrapped arms around him and cried into his shoulder. He hesitated but eventually returned the hug, patting her hair.

 

“It’s okay now. No more Thalmor.” He paused. “Lucia is coming tomorrow.”

 

Rhian put him at an arm’s length, staring at his face. The mention of her name seemed to have renewed a small amount of her spirit. “Lucia…?” She said under her breath. Etienne nodded.

 

Rhian settled into the water. He sighed from relief. She went under, washing all the blood she could from her. He did his best not to let his eyes drift. She was attractive, but he knew how she had been treated when he was there--and didn’t know what happened afterwards, so he did his best to help her back into life. He had wished someone would had done the same for him.

 

She finished bathing and crawled out on weak legs that were drained of their past muscle. He handed her a pair of clothes, having prepared ahead. It was nothing fancy, probably stolen, but she was grateful for it nonetheless. It was the first pair of clothes she wore since they threw her in the cell in her underwear.

 

She dressed and hesitantly put her hair into a ponytail with a leather thong she found on a barrel.

 

“Let’s get you to bed.” He put one hand on her back near her shoulder blades, almost as if to guide her, but more to assure himself she was really there.

 

They returned to the tiny, but cozy room. Etienne slept in a chair next to the bed, while he let Rhian have the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there you go, my sick little fucks. We're almost done here.


	6. First Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Readjusting quite well to being out of the Embassy, Rhian stays with Etienne in the inn of Solitude.

Lucia opened the door of the tavern. Rhian was sitting in a chair near the hearth, gazing intently at it. Once Lucia saw her she burst into tears and ran for her. Rhian turned to her, stunned.

 

She stood up and picked up the girl in her embrace. Lucia’s tiny hands gripped her back tightly. Rhian wrapped her in her scarred arms and cried against the tiny orphan girl. Tavern-goers either made mocking jests or turned away. Etienne sent a death threat with a gaze at one of the Altmer twins that snickered at the scene.

 

They stayed like that for a while, crying and grasping. After a while Rhian put the girl down and sat next to her.

 

Rhian listened with all her heart as Lucia told her about everything that had happened. Forsworn had broken out into the city, just when Etienne had come to take Lucia away. He had to practically beg Lucia to come with him. They lived in Riften. Lucia was safe. Lucia was happy. Rhian became happy at the news.

 

“Rhia… what happened to your eye…?” Lucia said, scared to ask, but curiosity becoming too powerful.

 

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” Rhian said carefully. Knowing the description of what happened would hurt Lucia. Lucia didn’t argue.

 

“Are we going back to Markarth?”

 

“I--I don’t know.” Rhian felt her heart shatter.

 

“No. You’re coming to Riften.” Etienne cut in.

 

“Riften… the Thieves Guild? _Gods_ , I wasn’t serious, Etienne. I don’t want to join.” She said, feeling a bit more like her old self.

 

He let out a laugh so loud it startled Rhian. “No, stupid, you’re hiding there from the Thalmor.”

 

“Oh.” Rhian felt embarrassed and just took a bite of bread she had nibbled on earlier. She didn’t want to eat, but knew she needed to.

 

“We’re leaving tomorrow. Lucia, you have a room next to ours.” Etienne said to break the silence.

 

Lucia raised an eyebrow. She was a child, but growing up for a year in Markarth, then two years in Riften, she found out about things quickly.

 

“ _Our_ room?” Lucia gave Etienne a stare.

 

“Yeah?--wait, no.” Etienne pointed a finger at the small girl. “ _No_. Not like that. You have been spending time around Thrynn, and I’m going to _skin_ him.”

 

Their exchange made Rhian laugh. The sensation felt foreign but bubbly to her. Both of them stared at her. She smiled at them. Her smile quickly faded.

 

“Wait--but if not for thievery, what work would there be for me in Riften?” Her face morphed into a confused stare.

 

“Fishing!” Etienne said proudly. “I have already looked into it. They need help.”

 

Rhian grinned for a moment. “You have also looked into lodging, then, I suppose? I don’t suppose there’s a Daedric Filled house there to?” She tried to joke but only choked on her own words. Lucia became uncomfortable.

 

“Actually…” Etienne began. “Lucia’s been staying with me where I sleep in the Thieves Guild…”

 

Rhian stared at him for a moment before bolting from her chair and slamming both hands on the table.

 

“You put her in danger!” She yelled, white hot rage filling her.

 

“--No! That was the safest place for her.”

 

“It’s true!” Lucia said, tugging Rhian back down into her chair. “I was _never_ in danger there! Everyone was okay with me!”

 

Etienne nodded. “They love having the little mage around.”

 

“I healed--and earned money--and bought food--I _earned_ it.” Lucia said quickly.

 

Rhian hesitated before quelling her rage. “Oh. And I don’t suppose I could do the same, then, hm? I suppose they wouldn’t want their barracks ending up like a hotel for lost causes and little mages?”

 

“No--but you’d have to do work for them--us--to stay there. Like Lucia did. And no, she didn’t steal. She didn’t steal a single septim. I lived up to my word.”

 

“But what could I do for the Thieves Guild?”

 

“I… I don’t know--but you’ll be strong again soon--as soon as you recover… probably..” Etienne said somewhat defeatedly. “--The bunkhouse! There’s a place for you to stay!” He say back, arms crossed, smug smile on his face.

 

Rhian sighed, but happily. She relaxed and stared into the fire.

 

___

 

“Etienne, it doesn’t matter, just sleep next to me. I’m not that big, you’re not that big. We fit fine. I’m not _repulsive._ Stop being a baby.” She sighed, irritably. She didn’t want him sleeping on the floor.

 

“Yeah, but… what if word gets out to the rest of the Guild?”

 

“By Akatosh, Etienne!” She hiss-yelled. “We aren’t having sex! We’re sleeping!”

 

“I know--I just--”

 

She gave him a look that told him to give up. He did. She scooted against the wall and slid underneath the furs. He slipped into bed next to her and curled up uncomfortably.

 

“Rhian the Bear was right," he said under his breath. She was already snoring, dead asleep. She hadn’t snored at the Embassy, but, he supposed she was relaxed enough to sleep well here. He settled in and soon fell asleep.

 

___

 

She awoke sometime during the night. The candle had died out. She tried to shift, but felt two arms encasing her. Confused and alarmed she slowly turned her head to find Etienne. His face was peaceful with sleep. She tried to settle back in, to get out of his grasp, but it failed when he said something incoherent in his sleep and pulled her flush against him.

 

She sighed and gave up. She was a bear, not the stuffed kind as this thief seemed to think. She was rudely interrupted from her thoughts with the feeling of breath on the back of her neck. She shivered and tried to ignore it. He hadn’t tried anything, and she trusted him, but gods, that small sensation was distracting. She almost longed for it to turn into something else.

 

Etienne hadn’t been much older than herself. She’d say he was probably 26. No older than 30. She was again interrupted, this time by the faint brush of lips. _Did he just kiss her?_ She panicked a little. _No--no. He was talking in his sleep--he got a little too close._ It happened again and she stifled another shiver. She shut her eyes tightly.

 

Eventually, she managed to block it out and fall asleep.

 

___

 

She woke up in the inn. She felt no one behind her, so she got up. No one was in the tavern. She walked out. No one in Solitude, not even a guard. Out of the corner of her eye she saw something move. She chased it further into the city. She stopped abruptly.

 

Was that a cheese wheel? She thought and let out a boisterous laugh. She was dreaming. She humored herself and followed the cheese wheel all the way to the Blue Palace, where the door opened. She continued to follow it into that one door that was always locked and no one liked to adknowledge. She entered and followed, and suddenly found herself at a Tea Party?

 

“Ah--and there’s the party guest now!” An (old?) man in an odd suit said loudly. “Well what’cha standin’ around for lassie?! Take your damned seat!” His mood swung from welcoming to irritated? Maybe mad? Definitely mad, but angry, maybe, too?

 

“Where am I?”

 

“Oh yes.” He stroked his facial hair, as if pondering. “Ya meet the Mad God and your _first_ question is ‘Where am I?’?”

 

“The--...” She narrowed her eyes. “Sheogorath…? Why am I dreaming of Sheogorath?” She didn’t bother to be careful of offending him, since he was a dream.

 

“Cause I put myself here, moron!” He laughed. “You killed my _previous_ Champion.” His voice suddenly dropped an octave and became intimidating.

 

“I…” Her blood ran cold. “The Cannibal.” She recalled with a hint of a stifled sob and a shudder.

 

“No--no--NO!” He screamed and stood up. “Namira **STOLE** him! She stole my champion!--But..” He calmed himself quickly and rather amusedly said: “You defeated that vile bastard. So you’re my champion now! Or at least..”

 

She waited for him to finish his statement.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Hm? Oh. You will be eventually.” Sheogorath mused.

 

“What? No. Absolutely not. I don’t associate with Daedra.”

 

“Oh? You don’t? Truly?”

 

“I… no--if you mean doing that task for Molag Bal--I was saving my _ass._ ” This made him laugh more than anything.

 

“And you might have actually done just that!” Sheogorath yelled, happily taking the opportunity to make the innuendo and making it a joke. He wiped tears from his eyes from laughing. “I do love when the mortals think they gotta choice.”

 

Rhian’s mouth quirked into a frustrated frown. “Fine. You’re right. Not much I can do.”

 

“Atta girl. Now. I believe you got a situation to return to. I’ll be seeing you--remember to make your old Sheogorath proud!” With a wave of his hand she woke up.

 

Situation? She thought, eyebrows showing her confusion and slight alarm. She felt an arm move. _Oh._

 

Etienne shivered from where he kicked the blankets off of both of them. He snuggled into her side for warmth. How did he get at her waist, she’d never know. She tried to stay still but felt something against her leg.

 

 _Oh gods, he’s horny._ She realized with somewhat of a blush and disgusted look on her face. Not disgusted, necessarily at him, but just the vulgar way it pressed against her. It was still night time and she had no way to go back to sleep. She wasn’t usually ticklish, but he set her on edge just enough to make her that way. She tried not to squirm. She didn’t want to wake him--but she wanted to get far away.

 

This was possibly the most uncomfortable thing she’d experienced. She would have not minded having him at all, but would he wake up and be disgusted? His lips found her bare skin where her tunic had ridden up just to expose her rib cage.

 

That was a kiss. She thought calmly, but conflicted. Her breath hitched and she felt him pause. Please be asleep. Please, please be asleep. His breath confirmed that for the moment. His lips met her skin again, other hand flat against her scarred, flat stomach, bare of her tunic.

 

Every inch of her was tense and frightened that he might wake up. He’s probably dreaming about someone-- _someone else, probably_. She assured herself. It felt like there was a lump in her chest and knot in her belly. She temporarily thought back to her previous experiences with men. All had been rape. She had never felt this before. Curiosity piqued her and she glanced down at him. He stirred and she quickly fell back “asleep”. He blinked and moved sluggishly, realizing briefly where he was-- where he had been a moment ago and stared down at her. She got good at pretend sleeping. If the Thalmor found her awake the would always do something. Be it say something or shock her or-- she felt lips on her ribcage again. Blood rushed in her ears. She stayed still.

 

Etienne hesitated before nipping just slightly at her flesh. Her breath hitched. She opened her eyes a little and looked him in the eye. His face was almost completely reddened with a blush.

 

“I can tell when you aren’t really asleep.” He said quietly. She felt herself blush, probably redder than he was. The silence stayed for a moment before he languidly traced a pattern on her belly, following the scars, marks, and mark he made a moment ago. She shivered under the gentle touch.

 

Nothing else was said and he curled up again, this time his head next to hers, holding her tight, hands knotted in her hair. She relaxed a little bit and let him play with her hair.

 

“You’re not letting me do this because you feel like you need to, are you?” He felt a guilty twang pinch his insides.

 

She really didn’t want to answer, but she couldn’t let him think that. “No… I’m not. Just.. please don’t go much further.. I’m still recovering.” He nodded in understanding.

 

Silence filled the room again. So this was the situation. Something between long-craved, slightly heated, and undeniably awkward.

 

Etienne place gentle kisses on her jaw and neck, holding her close. She felt herself almost melt at his fingertips. She leaned into him and wrapped an arm around him. She played with strands of his hair, eyes shut. Morning light finally peaked through the window. She placed his hand on her ribs, just below her breast, giving him silent permission to that area. He took her up on her offer gladly, discovering her body up close, gently, with roaming eyes and fingertips.

 

 _Knock, knock, knock._ They both turned their head quickly towards the door. Lucia stood in the doorway, face deadpanned.

 

“Oh.” She said simply, shutting the door again.

 

“Oh gods.” Rhian said under her breath. Etienne laughed a little bit.

 

“I hope she doesn’t tell anyone in the cistern…” He said nervously. “But, maybe that wouldn’t be too bad.” He winked playfully at her. She rolled her eyes and barely hit his arm.

 

“Oh no!” He said quietly but dramatically. “Scratched by a bear!”

 

“Stop it. You’re embarrassing to yourself.” She laughed at him.

 

 


	7. Amoungst Thieves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhian realizes her morals are quickly disappearing.

Both, Etienne and Rhian, got clothed. She hadn’t paid attention when he rescued her, but his Thieves Guild armor clung snugly to him. He caught her staring and laughed at her, passing some vulgar joke, to which she laughed, blushed and kicked his shin.

 

They made their way into the tavern for breakfast. Lucia gave them looks. She’d have to skin “Thrynn” too, for apparently letting her hear his own vulgarity and learn from it.

 

They ate and headed on the road by Carriage. Mercer had already taken Etienne’s horse. Every now and again Rhian would catch Etienne staring at her for a moment too long.

 

Her mind wandered, though, not where she wanted it to. She gazed onto the road ahead, thinking about what Sheogorath said. She’d heard plenty of stories regarding Daedra. She wouldn’t bother to fight it. It never ended well, denied or accepted.

 

Before she knew it they were in Riften. He took them around to a cemetery and secret entrance. She got the third degree from everyone there. She shrugged it off. At least they were nice to Lucia. That’s all she wanted.

 

She kept her head down.

 

“Okay. Brynjolf’s over there. The redhead. Go ask him.” Etienne nudged her away from him.

 

She did. Bringing back her former posture she held when called “The bear.”

 

“Ah, the one from the Embassy’s dungeon.” The man said when he caught her eye. “Etienne told me about you. Strong.” His brow knit. “But not right now it seems.”

 

“They didn’t feed me, in a cell all day. You would have to give me a bit of time to recover.” She said sternly.

 

“Well, I have a test for you.--”

 

“Wait, no. I don’t want to join.. I just..”

 

“Wanted to sleep among thieves?”

 

“Well, when you put it like that…” She hissed.

 

“Look, lass,” he chuckled. “The girl was a different story. You have to join to live here. I’m sure Etienne told you the fishery would be hiring. Don’t bother. You don’t want that job.”

 

She lifted an eyebrow. “Then this test… what do you have in mind?”

 

“Well, after you get your strength, I’ll send you out to just… remind people of our presence.” He said with that smile that could sell infertile dirt to farmers.

 

“Okay. I’ll do that. Give me a week, I should have enough strength to manage whatever task you’ll send me on.” She said with tension in her voice. “Is there somewhere I can train?”

 

“Yeah. _Thrynn_.” He called over to a man sitting with his feet in the water.

 

_So that’s the vulgar cunt_. She thought.

 

“Show Rhian to the training room.” Brynjolf said loud enough for him to hear.  Thrynn nodded and got up.

 

“This way.” The man with warpaint nodded for her to follow. He had a strikingly odd and gravelly voice. “You’re the one the Thalmor raped, hm?” Hearing it put so bluntly made her skin crawl.

 

“That was the least of it.” She spat harshly at the memory.

 

“Let’s just hope you learned how to beat someone without killin’ ‘em then.” He said. “I’ll show you, but it’s up to you to learn it right.”

 

He trained her for hours on end, teaching her better fighting stances, how to somewhat sneak, how to defend herself.

 

“I’m a bit impressed. Most whelps I taught as a bandit couldn’t take that many hits to the head.” Thrynn laughed a chilling laugh. Her face was a bit bruised from where Thrynn’s fists hadn’t been properly blocked. But she managed to land a few punches on him.

 

“I’m a bit impressed, too. I usually send milk-drinkers like you running by now.” She said with a playful sneer.

 

“I’m terrified.” Thrynn managed to catch her off guard while she was laughing with a shove. Her back hit the wall and she fell on her ass. Her eyes stayed wide, face emotionless.

 

“Eh… I didn’t hurt you that bad, did I?” He hesitated, unnerved by her silent stare. “Whelp. Hey.”

 

He tried in vain to talk to her, but her mind was elsewhere. It was back to Cihdna Mine--her first time, to the cell, her back against a wall, arms shackled, to the Cannibal, thrown down.

 

She sat there wordlessly, memories replaying behind her eyes.

 

“Girl, we can’t have this traumatized shit happening out there. People’d feel bad for us, not fear us. Hey. Rhian. _Answer me, damnit!_ You’re freaking me out!” He yelled. Etienne came in when he heard Rhian’s name being yelled.

 

“Damn, what did you do to her, Thrynn?” He said, walking over to her. He waved a hand in front of her.

 

“Ancanus?” She glanced up to Etienne, eyes glazed over, wide.

 

“Who?”

 

She blinked and looked up at him then at Thrynn.

 

“If that happens again, she’s not going out there.” Thrynn threatened.

 

“Then fix it, you dumb bandit.” Etienne hissed. “Figure it out.” He left.

 

Rhian sighed and put her head in her hands.

 

“I’m gonna be homeless again.” She groaned.

 

“No y’aren’t. Stop sulking. I’m gonna help you.” He said half-heartedly.

 

“I don’t like the sound of that.” She said but stood up.

 

“You gotta tell me everything that happened, though, so what I know what we need to desensitize you of.”

 

“Okay…” She took a deep breath and sat down on one of the hay stacks. She told him everything, sparing no disgusting, perverted or bloody detail. Through her story, she saw his face contort several times into a faint cringe. Despite having been a bandit, what the Thalmor did regularly to prisoners made his skin crawl. She swore she saw him shudder at the story about her eye, then again at the Cannibal, and being almost drowned in blood.

 

“My life has ultimately been comprised lately, of having my fate in someone else’s hands… like it is here.” She stared at the floor, almost unable to make eye contact with him. Feeling some sort of shame for being tortured, beaten, and raped.

 

“Hey. Here’s different. No one will let that happen here. Well, Mercer probably would, but he’s not everyone.” Thrynn said sternly.

 

“You’re right. ...Mercer’s the old one, right?”

 

“...” Thrynn’s mouth hung open. Then he laughed so loudly it startled her. “He’s the guildmaster! And the one that came to pick that lock. He’s the best at that.”

 

“Oh… should I thank him?”

 

“No. It was a job. He got paid.”

 

“Oh. So I should thank Etienne.”

 

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t worry about it. He seems to have perked up a lot, just having you here.” Thrynn observed mentally. “Say, now that you don’t look so dead, you look like a kid. How old are you? He’s not being creepy is he?”

 

“Oh, no he’s not-- I’m…” she paused, face twisting in the inability to think. “I was seventeen when they took me.” She saw Thrynn hold back some sort of emotion. “I must be… how many years has it been?”

 

“Two since Etienne returned to us.”

 

“Twenty.” She said surely.

 

“Oh.” He said almost relieved. “Not as young as I thought. You gotta innocent look… Despite all that’s happened.”

 

“Thanks..?”

 

“Hold on. Wait. You said you were a virgin when the orc raped you. But… Lucia?”

 

“She’s not mine.” She sighed. “I am so tired of explaining…”

 

“Never mind, then.” He patted her back. “Now,” he stood up from the pile of hay they sat in. “Let’s get to work. We have a little bit of daylight left. Not that it matters in here.”

 

Rhian stood up, as soon as she did, he grabbed her hair and shoved her into the wall, pressing up against her so tightly she could hardly breathe. She gasped and panicked. She shut her eyes with such force she felt tears raise to them. The Thalmor rewired her brain not to resist at this sensation.

 

“Fight back, Rhian.” He said against her ear, having no place else to.

 

“I can’t..” She felt herself shake and her heart speed up in horror.

 

“Yes you can. You almost broke my jaw earlier. You’re strong enough to fight back.” He reassured her, holding her wrists down by her sides. “Stop hyperventilating. Don’t cry. You’ll embarrass the guild.”

 

She twisted painfully against his iron grip and body. She opened her eyes to find his set on hers. He held pity in his eyes. She took a deep breath, fear quelled for a short moment. She wrenched her wrists out of his white-knuckled grip and grabbed his face, causing him to panic and back up. She threw him into the wall, jumping back out of his reach.

 

“Atta girl.” He laughed and stood up, rubbing a bit of blood from the back of his head. “Just like that. Again.” He advanced towards her. She stooped, grabbing him with shoulder in his stomach, she picked him up and threw him into the hay.

 

He struggled to get up this time.

 

“Thanks… for not throwing me into the wall this time.” He laughed, grunting. “I think you broke one my ribs.” His fingers felt his Guild armor where he was concerned about.

 

“Sorry…” She winced.

 

“No, good. Just not.. for me.” He chuckled again, nervous. “Go get Lucia, could you?”

 

Rhian left quickly, footfalls loud, as was her natural state. She fetched Lucia.

 

“Why did you break his ribs?” Lucia looked between the two.

 

“Training.” Rhian said strictly. “Not my fault. It just happened.”

 

“She’s _heartless_.” Thrynn complained to Lucia with a fake whimper. That made Rhian laugh.

 

Lucia quickly drew away from them after healing Thrynn and Rhian’s bruised faces and other miscellaneous brawling injuries. 

 

“You both smell like skeevers.” Lucia scrunched up her nose to prove it. “You need baths.”

 

“Yes. Desperately.” Rhian groaned. Thrynn shrugged, causing Rhian to give him a look.

 

“Fine. C’mon, I’ll show you where we bathe.” He got up. Sun had set long ago, but still they made their way to a closed off area of a pond near Riften. No one could see this area from the road. Thrynn had brought a bucket filled with linens and soap.

 

“Okay... “ She really didn’t want to bring up the predicament.

 

“Oh. Right. I’ll turn around. Won’t look.” He shook his head. “As long as you don’t.” He winked, causing her to scoff and roll her eyes.

 

He began to get undressed, so she turned away quickly. She hesitated but did the same, briefly considering if this was more training to desensitise her of her fear of being helpless. She decided to keep her dagger around her naked waist. In case it wasn’t training. She knew she might not be able to overpower Thrynn just yet, if he had decided to do something.

 

“I won’t.” He said suddenly. Almost as if reading her mind. Or hearing her nervous shifting.

 

“W-Won’t what?” She was caught off guard and entered the water, sinking down to her shoulders.

 

“Won’t rape you. I don’t like taking girls by force. Makes me feel bad just thinkin' about it.” He heard her enter the water and did the same, finally turning to her, now that she was hidden in the water. She jumped at the sudden eye contact. 

 

“Right.” She picked up a bit of the soap to run it through her hair. He watched her for a second, before beginning to do the same. She leaned back to rinse it, working her fingers through it. She hesitated and pulled her dagger.

 

He heard the sound of metal and turned to her again. She clenched her eyes shut and was sawing her hair off.

 

“Why are you doing that?” His eyebrow raised in confusion. “It’s so long, must have taken your entire life to grow.”

 

“Don’t want it grabbed.” She bit back whimpers as she  sawed at her hair. "Won't need it anymore."

 

“Then let me do it.” He reached out for the dagger. She stared at him for a moment. Both naked, her more vulnerable. She wanted her to _hand him the dagger?_ “It’ll hurt less if you let me.” She hesitantly obliged.

 

He walked behind her, grabbing the long pieces of hair and cutting it to the top of her neck. She only cringed once, before realizing how gentle he was.

 

“They can still grab it, but it won’t be nearly as easy, and they probably won’t be able to hold onto it for long.” He handed the dagger back, ruffling the freshly cut and rough looking hair.

 

“Thanks.” She nodded, feeling the tips of her hair, oddly. He returned to his space and began to wash. They both turned away from each other, out or respect or embarrassment, or both.

 

He got out first, drying off and lightly washing his guild armors. She glanced, by accident. Luckily, he was turned around. She quickly looked away.

 

She got out and did the same. She finally slipped shoes on. Aching and sore, but feeling much better. The night was completely black. They headed back towards Riften. She stayed close, unable to see.

 

They made it back to the Ragged Flagon and split up from there.

 

“You look exhausted, lass” Brynjolf patted her head as he seemingly congratulated her. “Did you improve any?”

 

She nodded. “I’ll be ready by the end of the week.”

 

“Good. Get some food and rest.” He dismissed her to return to doing business with a bald man who kept making eyes at the woman with strikingly white hair. She went up to the bar, bought food and ale and sat down at the only empty table.

 

Etienne sat in front of her, grinning ear to ear.

 

“What?” Nothing good could come from that.

 

“You bathed with Thrynn.” His voice quietly mocked but held a twinge of what she recognized to be jealousy.

 

“Well, yeah, but _not like that_.” She said harshly. “Jealous?”

 

“No.” He said quickly. “Well, maybe.” He said under his breath.

 

“You’re an awful liar.” She assured him.

 

“And you’re a tease--”

 

“ _Bleh_.” Lucia stood next to the table, sticking her tongue out in disgust. “Stop flirting.”

 

Rhian was flustered, but Etienne looked proud. She scowled at him.

 

____

 

“Alright, lass, time to see what you can do.” Brynjolf said confidently.

 

She simply nodded and he continued.

 

“Got a man who owes us some coin. Here.” He handed her a letter, encasing the details. “Go with Thrynn. He’ll assess whether or not you did it correctly. So do it right. I’d hate to kick you out. You’re a delight.” He smiled.

They left immediately.

 

“Pawned Prawn?” She said. “He named his store the Pawned Prawn?”

 

“Heh. Yeah.”

 

“That’s worse than the Drunken Huntsman.” She laughed. She opened the doors.

 

“Ah! Custom-- Ugh. No! I don’t have the damned money!” He yelled.

 

Thrynn just nodded to Rhian.

 

“What? Come to beat up an old man? Send a baby to do it? Send a _woman_?”

 

Rhian stared at him before narrowing her eyes. He was hardly unnerved; _too stubborn for his own good_ , she concluded. She walked around the counter, causing him to assume a more cautious attitude then an angry one. He put up his fists, and she gladly did the same. She hadn’t been in a real fight since sparring with one of the Companion twins when she was little, or the thief on the road to Markarth. She smirked at him. She had the glare of a menace. She took the first swing.

 

He dodged and hit her stomach. She felt the air knocked out of her, but brought her elbow down on his back. He staggered but got back up, to meet a fist on his jaw.

 

“Keep your hands up, Rhia!” Thrynn yelled.

 

She followed his instructions, blocking a punch to the face instead of dodging it. She grabbed his hands and twisted him around, hands bent behind his back painfully.

 

“Now do you have the money?” She said aggressively.

 

“No! I can’t just make it appear, you dumb broad!”

 

She pushed his arms up to the point she heard cracking. He screamed.

 

“The lockbox! I have it, I have it!” She let go and he grabbed it, handing the coins to her. She smiled.

 

“Thank you.” She said. Thrynn laughed and left; she followed.

 

“I think you didn’t fuck it up.” He said. “Thanks to my training, of course.”

 

“Yeah, entirely.” She chuckled and rolled her eyes.

 

“You haven’t thanked me yet.” He threw an arm around her shoulder, playfully.

 

“Ah yes, thank you for teaching me how to assault people. I’m absolutely _swooning_ , you dashing bandit.” She snickered, hand going up to her head as if she were about to faint.

 

“Buy me a drink, hm?”

 

“Sure.” She said, rolling her eyes. “You needy bar wench.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry fucking Christmas


	8. Divines are Overrated

They sat on a few crates in the Ragged Flagon. Rhian bought Thrynn that drink. They toasted her entry to the guild and even had a drinking contest with some Breton mage. Rhian was, for the first time, drunk off her ass. Thrynn did that almost nightly, only to have Lucia fix his hangover.

 

Rhian followed the Breton mage out of the Thieves Guild, practically crawling on him.

 

“You’re _pretty_..” She giggled in his ear and played with a strand of his hair.

 

“Haha, yeah. I picked a good look, huh?” The mage laughed and picked her up.

 

“--Oh.” She was surprised he could lift her. “Takin’ me away?” She giggled again, too drunk to see the possible danger of this all.

 

___

 

She woke up the next morning laying next to Thrynn outside of Riften in a camp. She was curled up against him, leg and arm draped over him, guild armors strewn around the camp. Rhian yawned and looked around, then realized what had happened. She sat up quickly and tried to cover herself. Thrynn opened his eyes and grinned at her, tugging the hide she covered herself with, laughing.

 

“Did we--oh gods.” She blushed and tried not to look at him. “We did.--Ow.” She held her head and suddenly ran into the bushes to vomit. “Ughhh…”

 

“Lucia’ll cure it.” He stretched and found his armor, dressing. “Let’s go back and face the others.”

 

“Nooooo…” She groaned. “Don’t wanna.”

 

“C’mon. You gotta get back to that Sam-guy anyway.”

 

“Sam?” She shook her head. “Who?”

 

“Oh my gods.” He paused then laughed his obnoxious laughter. “That is hilarious!”

 

“What?! What did I do?!”

 

“Well, more like what you did, we did, we three did, then you did again.” He laughed.

 

“Don’t be so.. cryptic and weird!” She yelled. “What happened?”

 

“You fucked him. Then me, then both, then him again, then you and him went to the temple of Mara.” She pointed to her ring finger. “Then we fucked again.” Honestly, a _very_ bad night, from the sound of it.

 

“That explains a lot.” She sighed. “My back hurts.”

 

“I’d say so.”

 

“ _No._ ” She stared at him.

 

“Yep.”  He laughed.

 

She rolled her eyes and returned to the cistern, to find Lucia, and then figure out what happened. Apparently a lot had happened. Lucia was standing on a crate in front of the alchemy table.

 

“Lucia…” Rhian groaned.

 

“Yeah, yeah. I figured.” Lucia held her hands out, a flash of white light hit her and she immediately lost the aches and pains and hangover. She stood there, stunned.

 

“Thanks… now… did you see a… ‘Sam’?”

 

“Yeah. He left earlier. Said he was headed to a tea party. Left you a note.” She handed it to Rhian.

 

Rhian opened the grave escape again, reading the note as she went. That smug bastard.

_Hey, hope you got over that hangover you’re going to have. Come meet me and my friend. I’ll explain what happened there. Don’t bring Thrynn or Etienne. Dawnstar._

_-Sanguine_

“The gall of that man!” She was dumbfounded. “Assuming himself to be the Daedric Prince of Debauchery,  just because he got me to do those things.” Rhian hissed. She turned, walked into the Ragged Flagon, going to both Vex and Delvin for work that she could do. Vex assigned her work, but Delvin told her to go find some boy in Windhelm. She would on the way back from that “tea party” or whatever the fuck it was.

 

“Lucia, I’ll be back in a week, probably.” She hugged the little girl, who was clearly uncomfortable to see her go anywhere alone.

 

____

 

She walked into Windpeak Inn, in Dawnstar. She saw the mage and felt rage return to her. He immediately saw her and stood to meet her. He ran up and hugged her.

 

“What did you do?!” She pushed him back. “And--you’re so _arrogant!_ ” She grabbed the collar of his robes in her fists, and almost lifted the smaller man off the ground to meet her eyes.

 

“Calm down, Rhia.” His smug grin never left his face-- _Gods! That fucking grin_!-- she wanted to punch his face until he stopped smiling--and was about to. “Come with me.” He jerked her out of her thoughts.

 

He left and she followed on his heels. After just a week around Thrynn, she developed his sure, predatory, swift gait. Sam guided her to some house she didn’t recognize. It was completely empty. He kept walking, until he reached a corner of a room, then vanished.

 

“Um…” She paused, cautious. “Hello? Sam?” She walked into the corner and found herself somewhere in the daylight.

 

“Ahhh, and there’s the blushin’ bride!” A familiar voice called, “well, y’aren’t _now_ , and you probably only blushin’ cause you were drunk--but there’s my bride!” The mad god raved.

 

She looked at him, he appeared the same, then she looked around. She appeared to be somewhere in a swamp, standing at table with cards on it. Sheogorath sat in one of the two chairs. She looked behind her and jumped.

 

That fucking grin. Sam had his arms crossed and his chin held high. She closed the gap with an angry footstep and grabbed his shoulders.

 

“You. _Complete._ Cunt.” She hissed.

 

“Well, yes. But you came for knowledge, so allow me to explain.” He laughed then her hands were jerked upwards. The mage became a _thing_. She jumped back, looking up to meet his eyes.

 

“What the _fuck_.”

 

He chuckled.

 

“So… you… are Sanguine?” She stood there, not sure what to do now. He nodded. “Well, I was going to beat the living shit out of you… but, guess I can’t now.”

 

“Well, not unless you want your ass handed to you then kicked.” He winked before straightening his back, now a solid foot above her.

 

“Sanguine. Daedric Prince of Debauchery.” He said proudly. “And over there, your husband.”

 

“That marriage can’t have actually happened. You mean, Mara let it be? A Daedra and a fuckin’ thief?”

 

“Indeed, it happened. Now you really are him champion! Ha!” Sanguine laughed from the belly.

 

“You tricked me into marriage for a prank?!”

 

“Yes.” He said proudly.

 

“Well… That’s that then. Hope you aren’t expecting babies.” She turned to Sheogorath.

 

“Little babes?” He asked, surprised. “You mean, little killers mixed with little Sheogoraths?” He seemed to ponder it.

 

“No. None of that. _No_.” She pointed a finger. “Absolutely not.”

 

Sheogorath laughed. “Sit down, mortal. _Rhia._ ” He used her pet name given to her by several friends. She never understood why they liked it so much. It was just one letter less.

 

Rhian felt compelled to, so she did as soon as he said it.

 

“Ah, good! You’re one of the mortals who knows they don’t have a choice! Perfect!” He said cheerfully.

 

“Be that, as it may, you want something from me, I presume?”

 

“Yes, yes…” Sheogorath went silent. “So, down to **business** then.” He didn’t seem his usual self at all. Sanguine joined them after conjuring himself a throne.

 

“There’s a third Daedra after you, girl.” Sanguine said, almost as bothered as Sheogorath was.

 

“ **Mephala**.” Sheogorath nearly spat.

 

“What… an odd combination… you lot. For what reason?”

 

Sanguine tried to exchange glances with Sheogorath, but the mad god had other plans.

 

“Well--you’re pretty special. Survived a whole lot, and I think that Akatosh has plans for you.” Sheogorath said dejectedly.

 

“Yeah. The last human to have plans made by Akatosh was the Dragonborn. Until the man met an untimely and ironic death at the headsman’s block in Helgen.” Sanguine added. “You wear his amulet.”

 

He tapped her chest just below her collar bones. She leaned away from his claw.

 

“No. The Thalmor took it.”

 

“Look down you bull-headed fool.” Sanguine laughed.

 

She glanced, only to find the amulet had been embedded in her flesh. She stared at it.

 

“I didn’t have that this morning.”

 

“You _never_ noticed it, Rhia.” Sheogorath laughed. “Never noticed it!” His voice shook the air itself. “ _HA!_ **That’s crazy.** You’re crazy.”

 

Something shifted in the air and she felt lithe hands brush her cheeks. She froze and looked behind her. A woman with black eyes and grey skin stood behind her. The woman had black hair, loosely held in a bun. The hands grazed her skin on her neck and held her shoulders possessively. Rhian felt her skin ache for the touch.

 

“ _Mara never truly married you two_.” Her voice was silken thread.

 

“Well, that doesn’t matter.” Sheogorath said lowly. “But, now that yer here!” His cheerfulness returned.

 

“Let’s get this started then!” Sanguine said, finishing Sheogorath’s sentence, waving his hand just slightly, a bottle of mead happening in it. He handed it to Rhian. “You’re gonna need this.” She took it, gladly.

 

_“There isn’t much to discuss, here.”_ Mephala said. Her voice sent shivers through Rhian.

 

Rhian stared at her. She had four arms, instead of two, and a robe, black as night with gold appearing to shimmer from it. She was even more beautiful than Ancanus had been. She noticed and narrowed her eyes at Rhian. She grinned.

 

“Well, she was my champion first! Before this Akatosh **NONSENSE!** ” Sheogorath yelled, “Haha.. NONSENSE! You know it, too!”

 

“I didn’t know it either when I sought her out!” Sanguine retorted.

 

“ _And that is why neither of you are fit to be her patron._ ” Her voice sounded like a whisper.

 

“I’m perfectly fit to be her patron! She’s perfect to be my champion! Look at last night’s events.”

 

**“Wroooong!”**

 

_“You know I’m not wrong,”_

 

“I know you are wrong, Mephala! She **killed** my previous champion, and went absolutely mad! **Mad!** _Mine!”_ His words were laughter and anger.

 

“ _You would rather keep her in a state of madness, then unlock her true potential._ ” She said. “ _And you, your plots only include her bedding who she shouldn’t and causing trouble.”_

 

“That is _exactly_ my plan.” Sanguine said proudly, but almost offended.

 

Rhian cleared her throat and immediately felt like she shouldn’t have, but spoke anyway.

 

“This is very… diplomatic.”

 

All three stared at her. Sanguine almost looked surprised, Sheogorath looked unreadable, and Mephala’s face reflected… something sinister but vexing.

 

“Right.” Sanguine said. “It is… then, let’s hear your opinion. _Useless as it may be_. Sate my curiosity, mortal.”

 

“I think I shouldn’t mix with Daedra. It has never once ended well or without blood being shed.” She swallowed the lump in her throat.

 

Mephala narrowed her eyes at her, then smirked. Her white teeth were sharpened. Her lips were red as blood. “ _That is not your motive. Not your truth. Tell us, Rhian.”_ It almost made Rhian shudder to hear the Daedra say her name.

 

“I… think that Sanguine would be the one I would benefit from in ways I don’t want to mention. Sheogorath seems more harmless, more safe than him… Mephala, you seem…” Rhian hesitated.

 

“ _Tell me, it’s okay, mortal, I want truth from you right now.”_ Her whisper felt like it was right behind her ear. Sanguine rolled his eyes.

 

“I think you are the most dangerous Daedra to whom I could belong, out of all three, of course, but I feel… you could grant me the most… “ She felt like she would pass out.

 

Sanguine and Sheogorath seemed to anger at hearing her words.

 

_“You are right, mortal._ ” A hand reached for Rhian again. Honestly, she would have shied away or even pushed it away, but she couldn’t do that now. The hand brushed loose hair back. A black spider crawled from her finger. It spun a silver web that held back the stand of hair and pinned it back. She watched out of the corner of her eye. The spider retreated.

 

“You’re trying to seduce her!” Sheogorath laughed. “And it’s working more than Sanguine’s attempt! **HA!** The girl truly does belong to me.”

 

“Hey! We said we could share her!” Sanguine yelled.

 

_“I certainly didn’t agree to that.”_ Mephala crossed her legs, resting her head on her fist.

 

“And what would you do if I just _took her_ , huh?” Sanguine spat, angry.

 

“You know well, what I would do, Sanguine.”  

 

“Neither of you is gonna take **my** wife!” Sheogorath hissed.

 

“ _She isn’t your wife, Sheogorath. The marriage only happened because you turned the Priest’s underlings into food. The marriage is void.”_

 

Rhian felt herself get dizzy, from all the information she was getting, and seething anger from all three of the immortal beings.

 

_“Mortal.. I am sending you back to your world.”_ Mephala  reached across to her again. She grasped Rhian’s hand gently. A spider crawled onto it, and suddenly Rhian was standing in the house, spider on the back of her hand, looking up at her.

  
“I’ve never liked spiders… but you’re kind of… majestic now that I get a look at you.” She held her hand close to her face. The elegant, but malicious build of the spider was alluring to her. 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Upon entering Windhelm, she was met with racism and a serial killer that hadn’t been caught. She asked around for the Arentino boy, only to get the cold shoulder.

 

“ _This way, Rhian._ ” She heard a whisper in the air, leading her somewhere. She followed it, almost too eagerly. The spider had earlier transformed into a bracelet, intricate and enchanting to look at.

 

She was led to a door under some sort of stone awning. She opened the door and slipped in when she was sure no one was around. She heard a young boy. She followed the sound of the voice to see him over the Black Sacrament. She stood there in awe, thankful that her guild hood hid it well.

 

“You’re here! The Night Mother heard me!” He said excitedly. She didn’t say otherwise.

 

Whatever this boy wants, is what Delvin sent me to do. She thought and took a deep breath.

 

“Okay… It’s Grelod the Kind I want dead!” He spat, resentfully then relayed to her numerous stories of her abuse and evil. Rhian nodded and walked out of the house. She felt her face lose blood.

 

 _“What should I do…_ ” She whispered into the night air, hoping to get some sort of divine intervention. Maybe Akatosh would find her and whatever holy quest he would send her on would distract her from this… assassination business. She wasn’t a member of the Dark Brotherhood. She walked into Candlehearth Hall.

 

She wanted to fuck and go to bed and sleep for months. Hibernate. This Daedra business- Thief business- Assassin business was getting to her. She sat down and ordered ale and wine. She began to sip before realizing which Daedra that might lead her to if she didn’t moderate. _But damnit!-- she was a Nord! Ale and Mead were in her blood!_

She downed all of what she ordered and sat near a hearth. She stared distantly at it, then at the bracelet. It looked like the night sky enveloping the depths of a lake. The bracelet became warm and then morphed into the spider. It crawled to her fingertip, staring at her. She stared back, fondly smiling.

 

“You really are a beautiful creature.” The spider had begun to make a web dangling from her finger. She watched in wonder.

 

 _“Rhian. Return to the Guild._ ” She felt a whisper of breath on her neck. _“Worry not of Sheogorath or Sanguine.”_

 

Rhian stood up and obeyed. She left Riften despite the darkness of night. She started on the road.

 

____

 

“You’re sending me on an assassination..?” She whispered so lowly Delvin could barely hear it. He gave her a devious stare and a gentle smile.

 

“Yes.”

 

She stared for a moment before getting up from the chair and returning to the cistern, immediately falling into her bed and staring at the ceiling. It had only been four days.

 

“Rhia! You’re back!” She heard Etienne chime when he saw her. He walked over to her, pausing. “I recognize that look in your eyes…” He said grimly. “What happened?”

 

“Heh.. I have no idea honestly, but I’m never drinking with Thrynn again.”

 

“I um… heard… he boasts.” Etienne coughed, feeling a nervous tickle in his throat.

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She opened her eyes and looked at him again.

 

Etienne sat on the bed. She sighed and hugged his waist. His posture got straighter. He was uncomfortable. She let up and looked at him suspiciously.

 

“Well, you know my history with Daedra.” She was going to tell him.

 

“You mean the Molag Bal thing that happened? Yeah, I remember you telling me.”

 

“Well, I’ve got a problem, that might not be a problem, I… I don’t know.” She covered her eyes and groaned. “I am worried for my fate.”

 

“Are you communing with a Daedra..? Other than Nocturnal?”

 

“No--yes--wait.” She looked him in the eye. “I never communed with Nocturnal.”

 

“You’re a thief. Kind of. You have even if you didn’t know.”

 

“My problem was being fought over by them.”

 

“Fought over?”

 

“By Sanguine… Sheogorath, and Mephala.” She hesitated.

 

“Damn, Rhia, what did you _do?”_

 

“I took an amulet off a corpse.” She laughed coldly, feeling her chest.

 

“When did.. you put an amulet under your flesh?” He looked horrified.

 

“AHA! I **knew** it wasn’t there before!” Her outburst frightened herself, reminding her of Sheogorath.

 

He jumped. “Well, whatever happened, I don’t think you should worship Daedra other than Nocturnal.”

 

“I don’t know… I feel like Mephala knows what will happen. Could prepare me for it.”

 

“Don’t. She.. she’s one of the.. eviler ones. Like Molag Bal.”

 

Rhian listened, and said nothing, but felt almost offended.

 

She closed her eyes. A distant part of her desperately wanted to hear Mephala speak to her, wanted the Daedra to have her, and perhaps do things with her that would make even Sanguine blush.

 

By Akatosh, when did she get so _perverse and twisted?_ she thought, almost missing her innocence. _Speaking of innocence._ She got out of bed quickly. She grabbed Etienne’s face and kissed him on the cheek.

 

“Thank you for caring about me.” She whispered. He felt his skin freeze. Rhian’s whisper hid something he hadn’t seen or heard in her before.

 

She left quickly, grabbing her dagger, glancing at her bracelet and making her way to the orphanage. She opened the door. She entered on the scene of Grelod the “Kind” admonishing the children. She stood there watching, eyes emotionless, but a smile festered into a grin on her face. Once Grelod was done she approached the woman.

 

“We aren’t allowing them to be adopted at this time.” She said smoothly.

 

“Really… I was ready to pay the adoption fee..” Rhian said with false dejection.

 

“The adoption fee? Oh--um? How much were..?”

 

“I brought 2000 gold. Wasn’t sure how much it was. Just in case.” Rhian smiled.

 

“Oh, it uh. We are. Letting them be adopted, for 2000.” She said, her own arrogance catching her throat. Then she screamed. Rhian’s blade was deep in her abdomen. She pushed the body of the abusive woman off her dagger and admired the look of the blood on her wet blade. She wiped it off on her armor and sheathed it. The kids were unsure whether to scream or run or thank the assassin. Rhian stared at them before another woman entered, horrified. Rhian smirked and jumped at her, having her hand up against the woman’s mouth.

 

“ _Hush, now, don’t speak_.” She narrowed her eyes. “Wouldn’t want to alarm the guards, hm?” The woman nodded through her tears. Rhian left.

 

____

 

It was a few days later. She was in the marketplace, standing there like Brynjolf instructed her. Her guild armor had been altered by Tonilia, it somehow looked more intimidating. More like Thrynn’s armor.

 

“Ah! There you are! Rhian, is it? Got a letter for you!” A courier found her and spoke quietly next to her, handing her the letter. She glanced at him then read the letter.

 

“ _We know_ ” The Black Hand. The Dark Brotherhood.

 

“ _Well, if they knew, why didn’t they do it?”_ She hissed under her breath. “Weak as they are they could have tried. They’ve gone downhill.”

 

She thought she heard faint cackling. She swerved around, seeing no one there, she composed herself.

 

___

 

“Going on your first real job, huh?” Thrynn smirked at her from the entrance of the training room.

 

“Yeah, Just wanna make sure I can make an escape.” She said from a thin ridge near the ceiling. “Gonna jump the Northwest wall. They’ll never know.”

 

“Don’t get caught on purpose!”

 

“I never get caught on purpose! But I’m … clunky. _Getting better,_ but just in case.”  Rhian jumped down, landing carefully.

 

“No one means to get caught.” Thrynn rolled his eyes. “And if you weren’t so awful at anything having to do with the Guild, save for beating peoples’ asses, then you wouldn’t have to worry about getting caught.”

 

“Oh shut it, animal fucker.” She retorted. “I’m fine at sneaking. I’m not as good at it as others, but I’ll bet you wouldn’t be able to find me.”

 

“Bet, huh? 200 septims says I’ll be able to spot you in Whiterun before you get the job done.”

 

“Fine. **Deal**.” She shook her head, holding her chin high.

 

“Fine. I’m going now.” He grinned. “I’ll spot you before you even get into the city.” He turned and left.

 

 


	10. Old Friends

Whiterun had never been particularly attractive to her. It’d always been kind of drab, lacking something. At one point in her adolescent life she wished to join the companions and help people. _Fleeting dreams._

 

“ _My champion draws near._ ” A whisper said just behind her right ear.

 

She turned her head around and seeing nobody, continued through the three districts until she arrived at the door of Dragonsreach. She opened the massive doors, swiftly walking into the shadows. No one had noticed her yet. She slipped up the staircase on the right and made her way to larger doors. With enough wandering and sneaking she finally found the Jarl’s quarters. She picked the lock with a bit of difficulty.

 

Rhian slowly crept around the sleeping royalty to find a Glass Helmet humming with some sort of enchantment. She wrapped thick leather around it and put it in her bag. She snuck out through a window, climbing her way down to the ground.

 

 _“Come to me, do not leave me yet.”_ She glanced down to the bracelet, finally recognizing the whisper. _“Yes, you are correct.”_

 

She walked around to the front of Dragonsreach, not bothering to sneak.

 

“What are you doing in here?” A boy said, looking up at her. “Oh. The Whispering Lady brought you here. You know her.”

 

Rhian crouched down, spider sitting keenly on her shoulder. He raised an eyebrow.

 

“Take me to her.” She said quietly. The child smirked wickedly.

 

“Follow me.” He said, turning on heel. She followed, footsteps just barely heard.

 

 _“You are closer, my champion.”_ The child stopped in front of a door and then left. Rhian set a hand on the handle and jostled it. It creaked open and she slipped inside. The entire room was covered absolutely in spider webs. She stepped into one.

 

 _“Further. You will not hurt the webs.”_ Rhian followed the whisper. _“Into my realm.”_

 

Rhian glided into the webs like they were water. She melted into them, letting them tickle and caress her. She felt a spider crawl slowly over her wrist and melt into the dark cuff. She continued to deftly walk with her eyes closed. At some point she noticed she was no longer walking; she was drifting. When she opened her eyes she saw a dull grey sky, bleak and merciless.

 _“You are in my Web, champion. Find me.”_ The Whispering called.

 

Rhian sat up. The tall wheat-grass she was laying on swayed with her gentle movements. She looked down to the bracelet and began to walk in a direction.

 

_“I didn’t think you would come. Tell me, why did you? Speak, mortal.”_

“Because.. I’m curious as to why you called me.”

 

_“Did you think not of the danger of infuriating Sheogorath or Sanguine by following my instructions?”_

“I…” She hadn’t, but she couldn’t say that. “I do not belong to them.”

_“Who do you belong to, Rhian?”_

 

She had never belonged to anyone, or at least, she **liked** to think that.

 

“Myself, Mephala.”

 

 _“We will see, hm?”_ The voice was always just behind her ear. Just on her neck.

 

There were few trees, which composed of spider nests and a few corpses hanging from them. Other than that, the land was pretty barren. She came upon an immensely large tree, draped with vines of webs, dotted with spiders and blooms of mushrooms, unidentifiable to Rhian.

 

“This is beautiful.” Rhian reached out a finger. A spider gladly landed on it, looking up at her before retracting upwards. It crawled onto the trunk of a tree. Rhian observed it, peacefully. The spider had begun to eat away at webs around a brass door handle. She looked at it for a moment before opening the door. “I should get back to the cistern.”

 

_“Yes, you should, shouldn’t you?”_

 

“They’ll be worried if I’m gone for too long.” She entered the tree trunk. Inside there was a spiral staircase, rocky, unstable, thin, steep. Rhian hesitated before beginning to climb and scale her way up it, much like one of the creatures of this plane.

 

_“They will be.”_

 

“Not to mention, you probably have some righteous or less than quest for me to embark on… I should leave.” But she never once paused in her climbing, until she emerged onto a completely flat, stone floor.

 

_“Perhaps.”_

 

“Found you.” Rhian said, triumphantly then paused. Mephala stood near, but eerily far away.

 

_“Closer.”_

 

She did not hesitate to follow that voice.

 

_“You are nervous.”_

 

“I am.”

 

“ _Why_ ,” she commanded, _“and do not presume to tell me what you think I want to hear. I am that of lies. You cannot fool me, Rhian.”_

“I don’t know.” She shook her head and the Spinner stepped up to her. Her movements were slow, serene, calming. She took strands of Rhian’s hair under a finger to feel it.

 

_“You do, but do not want to speak, is that it, champion?”_

 

“Yes.”

 

 _“I know why you didn’t want to discard the attentions of the other two Daedra.”_ Mephala’s completely black eyes fell on her’s, Rhian felt her blood chill. _“You like what they have to offer, the unpredictability, and the indulgence.”_

“Yes.”

 

“ _Then why have you not realized that you are completely mine?”_ Mephala traced a thin, sharp finger under her chin, up to feel her lips. They were full and soft, not like that of a Nord. Rhian’s breath caught in her throat. Mephala gave a gentle and sinister smile.

 

 _“You are mine, after all.”_ The Daedra walked around her before standing behind her. _“I can offer what they can and so much more.”_ The tall Spinner leaned into Rhian’s neck, planting a gentle kiss on her ear. Rhian shivered, almost wanting to lean against her. _“However, I am not one of jealousy.”_

“What do you mean, I am yours?”

 

 _“It means, I will do with you what I please, I will send you to do what I please, I spin you, control you.”_ Her kisses trailed down her neck. Rhian let out a quiet gasp.

 

 _“Even now, I so easily manipulate you. You crave things that I can give you.”_ The whisper changed tone. It was formidable. _“Even that of which does not require using your body sexually._ ” Her hand slid down Rhiana’s belly. _“You want blood and bone and flesh.”_

 

“What are you getting at?”

 

 _“Give in. You want to kill, so kill. You want to fuck, so fuck.”_ The delicate kisses became a bite. Rhian shivered again, melting against the Daedra. “ _Even now… do you want to give in, Rhian?”_

 

“Yes.” Rhian barely managed to breathe.

 

_“To my whims? To my will?”_

 

“Yes.” No. This was a horrible idea that she would very much regret later.

 

“ _Wake Up.”_

 

Rhian’s eyes fluttered open. She was in the Bannered Mare, sleeping on a less than comfortable bed. She hopped up, swaying slightly. She could still feel Mephala’s bites and kisses and gentle touches on her skin. She looked around and stretched. It was a long walk back to Riften.

 

____

 

The road back to Riften was boring. She walked at a leisurely pace, taking in the scenery, what little of it wasn’t dead, that is. She occasionally stopped to harvest ingredients for Lucia. She couldn't wait to get that 200 septims from Thrynn.

 

“ **You there**! Rhian!” She heard a haughty voice distantly behind her, and metalic footsteps, advancing quickly. She turned her head to see Thalmor. One Justiciar and Two Guards. Her blood stopped. She knew she was done. If she ran, they would paralyze her, or shoot her.

 

She glanced down at the bracelet then turned around, facing the approaching men.

 

“Long time, no see.” She said matter-of-factly. She found herself trembling just under her skin, but her jaw was clenched. She drew her dagger.

 

“Come with us, prisoner.” The Robed one said, spell ready. Rhian stared and put her dagger away.

 

“Fine.” She smirked. She saw one of the guards shudder. It only fueled her.

 

____

 

“So, you’re here again, Nord.”

 

“Oh, Elenwen, don’t be so impersonal. You remember my name.” Rhian whined, almost like a pining lover.

 

“Quiet. Unless it is information on Esbern that you speak of, you shall not speak.”

 

“Oh, that’s a **riot**.” Rhian sat back in her cell, crossing her arms behind her head.

 

One of the guards threw open the cell door and grabbed her arm, dragging her to her feet and out of the cell all at once. She said nothing, chin still high. She knew they would break her. For all the resolve she had in the world, they were professionals at breaking spirits, but until then, she would piss off each and every one of them. Even if it got her killed.

 

 


	11. Brothers and Sisters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow, lots happens.

Weeks had passed, _probably_. Rhian lost track of the days, of the time. Would anyone come for her this time?

 

Rhian was no longer in a cell, she was in the isolation room. Completely black, completely alone, save for a spider in the corner. She would often sit in there quietly, but her own thoughts were too close--too intrusive.

 

“ _My champion,_ ” She heard from behind her ear. _“Simply give yourself to me. It is not as bad as you would think. I long to have you under my fingertips, Rhian. I don't like seeing you like this._ ” For some reason, Rhian had  thought the whispers were just her imagination at this point. It said just what she wanted it to.

 

“Come get me then!” She cried out. “If you want me, come get me!” She got no response, but beat on the door instead. She fell to her knees, crying. She scratched furiously at the wood.

 

“Let me out, you **Thalmor pieces of shit**!” She screamed, disregarding the wood chips breaking her flesh.

 

_“Rhian, stop. Just give yourself to me.”_

 

“No!”

 

 _“It pains me to see you like this. Truly.”_ Rhian sobbed against the door. Clawing incessantly. Had she slept recently? When was her last meal?

 

“Kill me! Kill me, Mephala! Kill me, Elenwen! I will never talk, **so kill me!** ”

 

Almost as if to answer, the door opened abruptly, leaving her a shivering mess on the floor. She was yanked up. This time, in captivity, she didn’t let herself grow limp. She struggled and fought.

 

Managed to kill three of her guards, two custodians and four wizards.

 

“You’re too much trouble, Rhian.” Elenwen spat on her. “Like a _disease.”_

 

“Hahaha! Haha! **Gods,** I hope so, Elenwen!” Rhian screamed as a guard drug her out of the room, down a hallway and strapped her into some sort of chair. “I hope I’ve made your life _awful!”_

 

“You have, but… you’ve improved it, in some ways.” She smirked. “Thanks to you and Etienne’s stories, fear of us, by Talos worshiping Nords like you, is growing indefinitely. After this, they won’t soon forget. And neither will you.” On cue, one of the guards grabbed Rhian’s head and held it against the rest, prying her jaw open. Another approached with a tool, that looked like a pair of tongs with three clawed spikes that pinched together. A third guard held her mouth open as she struggled and let out strangled screams.

 

The tool reached inside her mouth. She felt it clamp _through_ her tongue. She sobbed and screamed out for Mephala to save her. Through her bone-shaking screeches she tried to pledge her soul to her, in vain. The tool was ripped from her mouth, bloody parts of her tongue clamped in it. She nearly passed out, seeing it. Tears ran down her face. She tried to talk. A slight healing spell kept her from bleeding out but did nothing for the pain. The guards unstrapped her and guided her out of the Embassy.

 

___

 

Left, shivering with Frostbite on the road outside of Winterhold, a guard found her and put her in the inn. She ended up in the cellar, not having enough money to rent a room. In the morning she got up, right foot numb and blackened. At least she had clothes.

 

She slowly made her way towards the College. _A mage can heal._ She thought, blurring between consciousness while walking. She saw the Altmer woman standing at the beginning of it.

 

“Holt! What busine--By the Eight, what happened?” The woman said sympathetically.

 

Rhian opened her mouth to speak, but the searing pain from her tongue kept her words stifled.

 

“You need a healer…” The woman said. Rhian nodded. “I… Come with me.” Rhian blacked out most of the way up, coming to in time to see she was laying on a bench, in some sort of circular room.

 

“Be still, don’t move, you’ve severe muscle damage… and… gods…” The woman standing over her looked as if she was about to vomit. Rhian simply stared, mouth shut. Several people crowded around her.

 

 _“Leave! Leave immediately!”_ The Whisper hissed.

 

Rhian tried her best to say something, reply to the whisper, cry, anything. The Breton over her healed her, or tried, at least.

 

 _“Run! Run! Please, run!_ ” Rhian just scrunched up her face in confusion.

 

She looked around and saw an altmer in tall black robes.

 

“Ancano, we can’t just send her out. She’s more than half dead.”

 

“So you except the homeless beggars into the College now?”

 

Her eyes widened. Ancano. Ancano? Ancanus?

 

Rhian stood up, shoving several mages out of her stomping way. She caught the Thalmor by his shoulder and spun him into the wall, grabbing him by his wrists. She applied pressure between tendons on his wrists, cutting off circulation. She grabbed his gold-looking dagger and quickly sliced off a few of his fingers.

 

She screamed incoherently,  waving the dagger madly.

_“Kill him. Destroy him.”_

 

She felt her body immediately halt. A paralyzation spell rippled through her. She was plied away from him. The mages dragged her out of the College. They gave her unenchanted robes. One of them told her to seek the Court mage of Windhelm and paid for her carriage fees. She was on her way back to the coldest city besides Winterhold.

 

___

 

She walked into the Palace, eyes dancing over everything in the barren room. She tapped one of the guards on the shoulder. She turned around to face her. Rhian held up a piece of paper with “Wuunferth” written on it by one of the mages.

 

“This way.” She led Rhian down halls and eventually to a stuffy room, full of the smell of failed alchemy and smoke.

 

“What? Why are you bothering me?” Wuunferth said as the guard left. Rhian walked up to him and handed him coins. “What? What’s this? Speak, damnit.”

 

Rhian scowled and shook her head.

“Then how am I supposed to know what you want? Why are you giving me gold?”

 

Rhian angrily pointed to her wounds.

 

“Oh. Heal? Why don’t you talk?” He retorted, irritably. Rhian opened her mouth. Her tongue was half the length it was previously. “Oh. What happened?”

 

Wuunferth didn’t expect an answer and sat her down in a wooden chair, preparing some sort of potion. It smelled disgusting. He handed it to her. She downed it quickly, not wanting to taste it. He began to cast some sort of light over her. It felt similar to Lucia’s.

 

“By the Nine, this could take all night.” He sighed. He alternated between using magic and potions.

 

____

 

The cistern was oddly empty. Good. No one saw her creep in, as she made her way to her bed. She laid down and hid herself beneath hide furs. She felt her tongue. It still felt odd, even after a week. She yawned, drawing the attention of Lucia who was at the alchemy table. She swirled around and ran up to Rhian.

 

“You’re back! I was worried! …. **Why** did you leave for a year?” Rhian gave her a look before despair setting in. _A year? I was with the Thalmor for a year?_

 

“Did… did they get you again?” Lucia asked, noticed new scars. Lucia had grown up. She wore tiny thief armor. Had Rhian not been so distraught she would find it humorous.

 

“Why won’t you answer me?” Lucia almost cried, hugging her. Rhian returned the embrace but then pushed Lucia at arms length and opened her mouth, letting her flayed tongue be seen. Lucia went pale. She began to cry and clung to Rhian as if her life were in danger.

 

___

 

After Lucia had returned to the Ragged Flagon to let Rhian rest, Etienne saw her, bolting to her side, grabbing her shoulders, rage apparent on his face. He yanked her out of bed.

 

“Where the _fuck_ did you go?!” He growled, inches from her face. She stared. “Why did you leave? A year, Rhian, _a fucking year!”_ She broke eye contact and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his neck.

 

He almost melted, sitting on her bed and pulling her into his lap. She leaned against him, appreciating how warm he naturally was.

 

“I know about… your tongue, but… who? The Thalmor?” She nodded and he sighed. “I’m sorry… I would have saved you…” She shook her head and leaned it against his shoulder.

 

She laid in the bed and pulled him next to her, cuddling up against him and hogging the blanket for herself. He wrapped her in it and held.

 

“It won’t happen again.” Etienne mumbled to her, stroking her hair.

 

Rhian just nodded. He sighed.

 

“I already miss hearing your voice.” He laughed, more nervous than amused. She felt herself sigh. “But you’re just fine how you are.”

 

She was half asleep already, but he continued to talk soothingly to her.

 

____

 

 _“Dragon!”_ She heard Vipir scream as he ran to retrieve his weapon. The cistern emptied out and everyone flooded into Riften, between the main gate and the market. The dragon flew low only long enough to damage its attackers then it would circle, and do it again.

 

She watched, her dagger tight in her fist. She was horrified. Back to Helgen.

 

The dragon seemed to recognize her. It landed on a roof nearby and looked directly at her. She froze.

 

 **“Ful dovahkiin alok,** ” The words rung in Rhian’s ears, “ **Zu'u fent lost zin krii ek.** ” The dragon’s words were unrecognizable, until he started to burn everything with another shout.

 

She jumped on the roof, climbing and scaling.

 

“You will die for me, dragon!” She screamed, jumping on it’s neck, missing impalement by a spinal spike by a hair. She hung on tightly, attempting to plunge her dagger into the neck. The dragon roared and squirmed. She felt it shift as its tail whipped around, bashing her in the side. Spikes stabbed her side, but she clung, nonetheless.

 

She worked the dagger between scales and ripped through. The dragon once again roared then fell silent, sliding off the roof, Rhian and all. They collapsed onto the wood city below. Rhian struggled to get out from underneath the heavy creature. The creature lit afire with some sort of ethereal flame, stripping scales, flesh, sinew and organ from it, without so much as harming Rhian. She stayed still, allowing the light to surround her, circling then absorbing into her. She looked around to see bystanders, and just her luck, as she was bleeding out, another dragon.

 

“Gods! We don’t have enough arrows--or men!” One guard shouted, violently ripped from his state of awe. She looked up to it then crawled on the shaking bones of the fallen dragon. The live one hovered above her, taking in the situation.

 

 **“Zu’u Dovahkiin! Zu’u los hin ah!”** She felt her voice rip from her throat with the same power of the dead dragon’s. That, coupled with the charming aspect of an ancient Nordic war chant, the dragon’s wings faltered, then fled.

 

She jumped off the dragon, faintly remembering her injury by the searing pain that gripped her side. The voice that yelled was not her own.

 

 **“Mindokah**.” She whispered, brushing the bones of the fallen dragon. The name of the dragon felt not-quite-foreign to her. Why had her tongue participated in dragon-speak, but not when she wanted it to?

 

“By the Eight… the legends were true.” She heard before a tight hand ripped her from the dragon and quickly back to the cistern’s secret entrance.

 

“Lass, you just caused us a whole lot of trouble.” A blunt object made contact with the back of her head. She fell unconscious.

 

___

  
  


“Are you sure, Brynjolf? She doesn’t have a tongue, there was no way she spoke. Much less, a language only the Greybeards know!” The distinct voice of Delvin woke her. “Plus, I know a group that would be furious with you if you killed her.” She jolted awake and struggled against binds she couldn’t see. She tried her best to talk.

 

“Ohhn’t kkiih hee.” She tried her best to say, beginning to cry at the thought of such a betrayal to happen. Trying to speak was too embarrassing for her. “Puh.. Pulease.”

 

“See? There was no way she spoke clearly. She couldn’t have articulated that.” He shot at the redhead.

 

“No, she did, I witnessed it. She said ‘zu’u dovahkiin’. Clear as day.” Brynjolf asserted.

 

Delvin sighed, knowing arguing was no use. “Let me get rid of her then. She’ll never return.” There was silence, but then Brynjolf agreed.

 

Delvin pulled the blindfold off. She was in some sort of shack, rundown, broken, warm. Near the southern border.

 

“Sorry, girlie. I didn’t want anyone to find out. That’s why I tried to get rid of you earlier, but I guess you didn’t get it. That’s fine.” He patted her head. “Mm’not gonna kill you.”

 

She relaxed. Delvin, despite being a thief, didn’t seem like the type to lie. “Lucia will remain with us for about a year. Got her training with an alchemist. Then we’re sending her up to the College.” Rhian nodded, relieved.

 

“You ever been to Falkreath?” She nodded again. “Good, this makes it easier. Taking you somewhere your lady will be pleased with.”

 

“Muh aaadie?”

 

“Yeah. Don’t try to speak, darling, it’s embarrassing.” He guided her out of the shack and towards two waiting horses. “Now, don’t try to run away, or I’ll have the horse down before you know what happened. Stick with me, do what I say, and you’ll never have to worry about the Thieves’ Guild again.” She felt her heart break.

 

“I know,” he continued, as if she spoke her mind. “But you’ll live. Etienne wasn’t that much of a catch, anyway. Thrynn was only in it for the sex. Yes, I know. I know everything that happens in the Guild.”  She sighed. “I’m sure you’ll find someone where we’re going.” He helped her onto the horse.

 

“Plenty of people will find you attractive. Even with that creepy eye.” Her shoulders slumped as her horse instinctively started to follow his. “I know it sucks, but we just can’t have the Dragonborn in the Guild. Bad for business, and you. You got a righteous path ahead of you. Despite where I’m taking you, you’ll find it.”

 

___

 

“So, this is the killer of Grelod the Kind?” A female voice slightly snuffed by a cowl spoke.

 

Rhian looked around, seeing three people, then looked back to see Delvin had left.

 

“What, don’t talk? ...That’s fine. In our line, silence is much better than conversation.” The woman continued, just slightly swaying her dangling foot from her place atop a bookshelf. It was much too dark for Rhian to see with only one eye. “A mute is better than a bard, by far.” She laughed.

 

“Well? What are you waiting for? You can figure it out, dear. Kill one of the three captives.” Rhian nodded and walked over to them. She could feel her blood rushing, her adrenaline taking over. She heard them begging, scolding, and bargaining. She pulled out her dagger and grabbed the one that was fully armored. Either a sellsword or a bandit. Hardly mattered. She grabbed his shoulder with one hand and swiped her dagger through his neck, head departing with a disgusting wet noise, then rolling on the floor, out of its bag. She heard laughing.

Rhian turned to Astrid.

 

“That was a… pleasant surprise. The one that was pleading for his life. You are heartless… I like it. But, what matters is that you followed instructions, cleanly as possible.”

 

“Go to the Sanctuary near Falkreath. When asked the question, you should answer ‘Silence, my brother.’ Go.” Rhian left the shack, finding her horse to be taken back, probably with Delvin. She sighed and started to walk to Falkreath. She needed a drink.

 

____

 

“What would you like to drink?” The man behind the counter was surprisingly cheerful. _Oh, he’s a fence._ She sighed and dug around in her pockets for coins. She pulled out 30 and grabbed 6 bottles of mead and ale. The man was a bit shocked but shrugged off her rudeness. She found a table in the corner and began to drown herself in it. Two bottles down and she was already a bit buzzed. She knew full well what would happen if she got drunk. She’d wake up with someone she shouldn’t be sleeping with, and/or in the realm of a Daedra.

 

Four down and she knew she was drunk, though, this time not so giggly. A familiar mage sat next to her and she just sighed. He said nothing and waited for her to finish her alcohol.

 

Rhian stood up and staggered out of the inn, yelling something incoherent, but probably vulgar.

 

“Hey, slow down. These Breton legs are too short!” Sam complained. She wanted to tell him to fuck off, to never talk to her again, she was sick of Daedra, even though she only had a few run ins with them.

 

“Come on, you’re too drunk to function.” He guided her into the woods, away from the town. A small part of her panicked. “Let’s go.”

 

At some point on their walk, Sam had become Sanguine. She hated it, because then he was taller. Rarely was anyone taller than her. Not even the damned Orcs and Altmer were taller. The only two people who truly were, were Mephala and Sanguine.

 

Sanguine pushed up up against a tree on the road. _Fucking Daedra,_ she thought as her hands slipped into his hair. _I hate every single one of them._ She hissed as he began to make his way through her guild armor. She was absolutely perplexed by his “armor”? _What the fuck was it anyway?_

His hands seized her wrists, lips attacking her neck. Her breath caught.

 

“Did you forget already? I’m the one that knows what you dream about.” He said harshly, teeth digging into the skin above her collarbone. “I know you want this.” His hands glided over her breasts, pausing at her belly. His hand made its way under her smalls. Two fingers slipped in, eliciting a gasp. He chuckled.

 

“Damn, I didn’t realize how much you did want it.” He laughed, pushing up against her and withdrawing his hand. She groaned at the emptiness.

 

By the Nine, she did, but even if she was able to speak she’d never say it.

 

“But not right now. You’ll probably forget. I don’t want you to forget it.” He bit her neck once again, drawing blood this time. She huffed, frustrated, causing him to laugh again. She hated that fucking smug laughter.

 

____

 

She slept up in a tree, draped loosely over a branch. She woke up dully, head pounding. She felt in her knapsack and pulled out a small green vial, filled with some disgusting liquid Lucia made for the frequent hangovers, acquired at the Guild. She downed it quickly and put the empty bottle away, blinking away the slowly leaving headache and nausea. She hopped down from the tree. She staggered a bit then looked around.

 

The Black Door stood, beckoning and threatening at the same time. She wanted badly to turn back, leave, return to Lucia, to Etienne. She groaned and approached it.

 

“What is the music of life?” The door sounded like a gurgled version of Mephala’s voice.

 

It occurred to her that she had to speak. She groaned again.

 

“Ssss--Sssilensch, miiih buhrroher.” She felt heat rise to her face. She dearly hated speaking.

 

“Welcome home.” She was stunned her sorry excuse for talking worked. The door opened slowly and she slipped into it. Her head had the remnants of a headache still, despite the alcohol being purged from her body.

 

“Ah, at last! I hope you found the place alright.” Astrid was leaning against the doorway. “Go on, go meet your new family. In fact, go to Nazir, he’ll have some work for you.”

 

Rhian followed her instructions, finding ‘her new family’ gathered around a small child, much younger than Lucia.

 

She was regaling to them some sort of story about her killing a pedophile. They all chuckled and snickered. She stood in shock before glancing behind everyone. There was a giant wall.

 

 **“Go to it, you moron.** ” She heard the dragon’s voice inside her like a storm. She looked around, apparently no one else had heard it. Now, it spoke her language, she scoffed at it internally but followed the instruction, placing her hand upon a lightly glowing word. She felt something stir inside of her.

 

“Krii.” She whispered soundly. Had Akatosh or the dragon been talking through her? She sorely wish she could speak her own language once again. “Krii.” She heard whispered back to her.

 

“Ah, you must be the new child.” The little girl said, knowingly. “I’m Babette, and no, I’m not a child. Who are you?”

 

Rhian shook her head and smiled at her.

 

“Then I’m going to call you Mute.”

 

Rhian shrugged.

 

“Why are you still wearing… ravaged Guild Armor? Don’t be afraid to wear the Dark Brotherhood Armor. People will fear you, avoid you, _especially guards._ ” Rhian gave her a look and then down at her armor. Her face reddened, realizing that encounter with the fucking Daedra wasn’t a drunken hallucination. Babette laughed.

 

Rhian found a place to change, and enjoyed the feeling of new armor. (That didn’t have torn buckles from Daedra or other thieves.) She sat there for a moment.

 

 _I’m an assassin now. That was quick. What happened?_ She used to be so innocent, the ideal Nord girl, tall, brave, honorable. Now she stayed in the shadows, sullen, sadistic. She had enjoyed the feeling of stabbing so much she often had dreams about being taken by Mephala or Sanguine, claws in her back, teeth in her neck, blood dripping. _Disgusting._

 

She left her little corner, exploring the Sanctuary. She eventually found a Frostbite Spider. She walked down to it and sat next to it.

 

 _“Lis._ ” A whisper said. _“She is mine. She is your sister.”_

 

Rhian smiled at Lis. The spider settled down next to her. Rhia  would be good friends with her if no one else. She leaned back against the rock, staring into the blackened eyes of Lis. Maybe the Dark Brotherhood wouldn’t be that bad, afterall.

 

____

 

“What are you doing in my house? You’re not supposed to be in here!” Beitild said angrily, pickax in hand. Rhian practically laughed, that gurgled and mangled laugh that was largely due to her tongue.

 

“Get out!” Beitild hissed, “I’ll alert the guards!” Rhian drew her dagger.

 

“Help!--” The woman found herself muffled by a hand and that haunting laugh.

 

 _“Shhhhh._ ” The assassin had managed to make that sound quite well, even without a tongue.

 

Rhian’s blade slipped into the woman’s mouth and made quick work of her tongue. The woman tried to scream, but was quickly greeted by a blade in the throat. Rhian pulled the woman’s tongue out and dropped it on the floor, taking off her gloves and graciously dipping her hands in the wound on the woman’s neck, feeling around, ripping at cords and overall, crushing whatever they found.

 

She took a deep breath before wiping the blood off. That is vile, Rhian. She scolded herself. She put her gloves back on and slipped out of the house.

 

____

 

The abandoned shack was pathetic and putrid. Rhian was very eager to get in, kill, and get out. She pulled her dagger and stabbed the man in the chest. Narfi sat up, only to be shoved back down by another stab. Rhian felt a rush take over her, moving her arms against her will.

 

In a few weeks the guards would enter the shack, to find whatever horrible odor the village goers were complaining about. They would find at least 30 stab wounds littering his torso; the killer no where to be found.

 

____

 

She had no fun with the next contract. He was too close to Agna’s Mill to have her choice of killing be carried out. So, against her wants, an arrow in the skull would be the death of poor Ennodius.


	12. Daggers and Dragon Speak

_Fuck Markarth._ Rhian groaned, opening the city’s wide doors. Luckily, it was highly unlikely anyone there would recognize her, due to her ghastly appearance. She passed the door to her old house quickly, but stopping only a few meters away from it.

 

She stared blankly into air in front of her. She backed up and opened the door, entering the Daedric filled house.

“My champion enters…” A familiar drawl welcomed her.

 

She yelled something incoherent but nonetheless furious. He reacted with only a degrading laugh.

 

“Come to the altar, Rhian.” She cursed him in every way she knew how, screaming, screeching, and yelling out words that came to nothing more than angry cries.

 

“It seems you’ve lost your ability to talk back. That is… _humorous_.” She felt rage boiling under her skin.

 

She stared at the interior of the house.

 

“Nno.” She managed, stomping her foot and turning to meet the door. She tried to open it, jostling the door, kicking it, screaming again.

 

“Do not deny me, champion.” Molag Bal hissed. “It will not do you well to anger me again.” She felt the rage she had thought she released in her killings once again felt all too restrained. She stormed down to the altar, hands balled into fists, feet causing the walls to tremble.  

 

She met the altar with fire burning in her chest. She grabbed it, shoving, pulling, desperately trying to find a way to destroy it.

 

The voice laughed again at her attempt to break the altar. Familiar bars shot up through the ground, pushing her back into the middle of them. She screamed something again.

 

“I have prepared a … test for you. It seems that Mephala has made you… weak.” She screamed something again, before her eyes caught someone’s movements. She saw a man in full Ebony armor leave the shadows. Rhian made eye contact, burning holes in him with her eyes.

 

“Kill her, my true champion.” Molag Bal commanded. The man obliged, raising the rusty mace above her head, both hands on it. Rhian tried to reach out and grab him past the bars. She felt the mace make contact with her back. She screamed again. Another hit. Another scream. "Make her give her soul to me."

 

Again, this time however, the mace was shoved into her gut, sending her to the ground.

 

“ **Vos zey tir, Dovahkiin. Zu’u fen sav hi.** ” A voice called to her. Mindokah.

 

She looked up in time to see the mace coming for her face. It smashed into her head. She fell unconscious.

 

_____

 

“ **Praad vok**.” She obliged. She opened her eyes to see the man in ebony mail dead in front of her. She looked around. What happened? she dismissed the thought, only to have it clouded by others. The dragon’s words. They said that he would save me? But if I am the Dragonborn, am I not supposed to destroy Alduin? Wouldn’t Mindokah be on his side, not mine? She sighed, annoyed, confused, and tired. She realized the bars of the trap were broken. Rhian crawled out of the house, slightly healed.  

 

She composed herself before finding Muiri, getting information and trying her best to leave. She couldn’t help but to stop by the mines.

 

“Rhian!” The Overseer. Of course. She could think of no one she would want to see less.

 

Mulush grabbed her aching shoulders and nearly gave her whip lash, whirling her around to meet his eyes. She glared.

 

“You…” He found himself at a loss, upon seeing her face. She almost enjoyed the shock she’d seen on his face. “What happened to you, girl? Last I saw, you were getting hauled off by those Thalmor, cause of that _damned_ Cosnach boy.”

 

She sighed, yet again wishing that never happened… If it hadn’t, she would have never had to deal with the Daedra fighting over her, with being a thief, being rejected by thieves…

 

“Talk, girl, tell me.” She opened her mouth and pointed to her flayed tongue. He almost cringed.

 

“They… The Thalmor… Your eye too?” She raised an eyebrow, but nodded. He let go of her shoulders and fixed her armor, before making harsh eye contact again. “ _Dark Brotherhood Armor.”_ He said so quietly he wasn’t sure she heard it. She nodded slightly. She saw him sigh, before embracing her.

 

She uncomfortably brought a hand to pat his back, more of a signal for him to let go than one of comfort.

 

“We were worried, girl. But look, over there.” He let go of her and pointed to the hanging cage that usually held someone made to be an example. She stared at Cosnach’s body before a smirk crossed her lips. She didn’t think she’d like seeing that as much as she did. She leaned over and kissed Mulush on the cheek before waving goodbye, and making her way to Understone Keep.

 

She threw open the doors, going to where they kept the court mage. She walked openly over to Aicantar, with a renewed feeling of stregnth.

 

“Oh! Hello! Here for a potion? Buy a spell? Calcemo’s out right now, but I can help, too!” The young mer said, all too eager to prove himself.

She grabbed ink, quill and paper and sat it in front of him. On a separate piece of soft parchment, she wrote neatly: “Write Recommendation for Lucia.” She shoved it at him and waited.

 

He eyed her before recognizing her and growing severely uncomfortable, almost ready to call a guard. She grabbed his wrist and put quill, dipped in ink in his hand. She held fiery eye contact. He hesitated, but her silent threat was well read in her eyes. He wrote out as nicely as he could, betrayed by his trembling hand:

 

“Please receive Lucia, daughter of Rhian the Bear of Helgen, into the College with warm welcomes. She holds much talent in the area of magic and has a knack for restoration and alchemy.  -Aicantar, nephew to Calcemo of Markarth.”

 

Rhian looked it over as it dried, with a sharp eye. She looked back at him.

 

“Is it okay, should I rewrite it?” She shook her head and folded it, grabbing a candle and dripping a wax seal onto the page. She grabbed Calcemo’s ring from his enchanting table, stamping it and depositing it into Aicantar’s hands.

 

___

 

 _“My child….”_ A new sort of whisper graced Rhian’s hearing. Much less alluring than the other yet… eerily similar. _“You are the one… Mephala’s.”_

 

_“Tell dear Cicero, Darkness Rises When Silence Dies.”_

 

 **“Defiler!”** She sat at Mother’s feet, but was suddenly jerked into awareness as light flooded the coffin.

 

She stopped him with the simplest action of holding her hand up. She left the coffin, finding paper. “Darkness Rises When Silence Dies.” She quickly scratched out with charcoal.

 

Cicero stood in front of her, dagger at his side limply, more than simply shocked. Then that eager, happy, sinister mood that she loved so much returned to Cicero. He dance between his feet and around the room.

 

Astrid rushed in, weapon readied.

 

“Ha! What _now,_ pretender! Cicero has found **the Listener!”** He yelled erratically.

 

Astrid rolled her eyes and rushed to Rhian, reassuring herself there were no gashes on her from the crazy jester.

 

“Look, I don’t know about this whole Listener business..” she said scornfully. “But I am the leader of the Dark Brotherhood, and you do as I say.” Rhian nodded, with a twinge of disappointment. Mother had spoken, and she sorely wished to not keep her waiting. But, Rhian knew that Mother's wishes would be fulfilled in time. 


	13. Mother

Rhian stood in front of the Ratway entrance, not seeing it fit to enter the one of secrecy they tried to hide. Her heart was pounding in her ears. She pulled her cowl up and hood shadowing her eyes. No one would recognize her if she didn’t try to talk.

She made her way through the filth and people littering the Ratway and found herself in the Ragged Flagon. She walked straight to Delvin Mallory, dropping the amulet in front of him, causing the slightly older man to jump in genuine startle. She kept her eyes down.

“What’s this, eh? Dark Brotherhood Initiate? Droppin goods in front of me?” She didn’t speak. “Ah suppose you want a letter of credit then, eh? For quite a lot too. This is certainly not something you come by every day. Heh… how did you come by it anyway--wait, nevermind. Don’t tell me, I know how.” He laughed to himself. Rhian looked around. Half of her ached to see Etienne or Thrynn one more time, but the other half knew it would only hurt. All of her wished to see Lucia.

Once Delvin had wrote out a Letter of Credit Rhian fished in her pockets for the letter of recommendation. She wrapped it in linen with a note explaining what it was, if opened.

“Luuchhia.” She said quietly. Delvin almost jumped out of his elderly skin again, making wide eye contact with her.

“By the Eight…” He whispered. “ _Get out of here_.” She nodded, taking the Letter and leaving him with her simple instruction to give the package to Lucia. She quickly shuffled out, making it out of the Ragged Flagon.

She was halfway through the Rat Way when a rough hand grabbed her arm. She swirled around, dagger already drawn. She looked up quickly enough to see Thrynn’s constantly-calloused hand yank down her hood. She glared, heart thumping. He stared, lips drawn into a straight line, holding back some sort of emotion. She put her dagger back in its sheath and shoved him away.

“Etienne’s still distraught.” She tried to walk away, but stopped and turned her head to him. “He thinks Brynjolf killed you. That’s what Delvin told him… us… Lucia won’t talk.” She felt her heart break. She sat down, right there in the disgusting path that led the a hoard of thieves. He walked over to her and sat next to her.

“Gods, whelp, you’ve caused so much trouble… why did Brynjolf ‘kill’ you, anyway.”

 

“ **Dovahkiin**.” She opened her mouth. The dragon word flowed out, in her voice, but still not belonging to her.

Thrynn was taken aback, staring for a moment.

“Dovahkiin… Isn’t that what they call the Dragonborn? Are you the Dragonborn?” Thrynn’s brow scrunched. “That … That’s unbelievable, but... it would make sense, Brynjolf not wanting the righteous hero of Skyrim in the Guild.” He sighed, loosed his hair and scratched his head.

“Should I… tell them you’re alive..?” Rhian thought for a moment. If they knew and word got around, Brynjolf or Delvin might send for her to be killed. Her eyes lit up and she nodded, grinning a toothy and devilish grin.

“Heh… there’s that feral mess I took to bed.” He laughed obnoxiously. “Man, it really has been too long. Ever find that mage?”

Rhian visibly shuddered; Thrynn laughed again. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,-- Speaking of which! Stay here! Right here! Don’t move!” Thrynn instructed her, bolting off somewhere. She stayed, hesitantly. She wouldn’t know what to do if he came back with Lucia or Etienne.

Thrynn’s relationship with her was a casual, but nonetheless rough and animalistic fuck. She could get over leaving him, and he could her, all the same. However, with Etienne, she felt a connection she hated to adknowledge.

He came back with a laughable looking … rose-staff?

“Sam came by and left this for you.” He thrust it into her hands. She stared at it and then him. Her face became one of confusion and slight disgust at the odd appearance.

“Yeah, I know, I know that look, I had it too. He said try it when you’re alone or when you need someone killed.” The instructions made even less sense.

____

“I heard the news of… both.. deaths.” Muiri said with a thin smile, and slight blush. Gods, was she _gorgeous. If I weren’t in a hurry, I’d find a way to bed her by nightfall._

“Thanks again, this should cover everything you did.” She handed her a bag of coins.

Rhian left the little shop, reflecting on last night’s events. She had took out a horde of bandits with the help of a Dremora resembling Sanguine, and fucked then killed Nisline. For some reason though, Rhian had felt distant, the entire time. She grew immediately fond of the Dremora, finding that one of Sanguine’s underlings was grumpy and standoffish made her want to tease him and mock him. If she had a tongue, she would have.

Nisline had been a nice fuck and a clean kill, but still she felt as though someone was pulling the strings. It hadn’t really mattered though, as long as Rhian got gold and sex, she was happy.

___

“Rhian!!” She heard someone scream as she made her way to the Silverblood Inn. She turned around just in time to get a face full of thief, as Etienne picked her up in an embrace and swung her around, only to deposit her back on the ground when he was satisfied from spinning her around. She looked like a stunned deer.

“It’s been so long.. I’ve missed you.” He held her hands, desperate for physical contact with the girl, as if she’d become a ghost at any second. She blinked, staring him up and down. She then pried one hand from his and went to touch a new scar under his right eye, and obvious dark circles she hadn’t seen since the Embassy.

“Ah… Got into a fight with Thrynn. It’s fine, Lucia had to put his nose back in place.” The mental image of the wiry Etienne taking Thrynn down made her laugh. Etienne melted at the sound, once again embracing her. “Delvin told me everything, where you would be… what happened.”

She glanced down at him, to see he wasn’t wearing the regular Guild armor. She shot a stare back up to him.

“I’m.. on vacation… for a while.” He said, slowly making up an excuse. “Actually, I disappeared. Lucia’s at the College. I was going to bring you there… but that Thalmor wizard there is looking for you… says he was going to have you hanged for corrupting his daughter.”

Rhian took a second to take in all of this information before panicking. Lucia, at the college, with Thalmor. Her thoughts were garbled and a complete mess. She shook her head. They wouldn’t do anything to Lucia. Not if he remembered what happened last time she was there.

“To the Inn, then.” He picked her up, much to her surprise. She had forgotten anyone besides Thrynn could pick her up. She’s never seen Etienne do it. He tossed her over his shoulder and started walking towards the Inn.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't realize I wrote this much, but it's nearly over. Just a heads up, it's the least satisfying ending I've ever written. You know, fitting for Skyrim.


	14. True Dragonborn

She handed him the key to the room she’d already rented. He walked to it, deposited her on the bed and locked the door. As soon as his hand left the doorknob they were seized by Rhian’s. She pulled him onto the bed, admiring the way he looked shocked. She smirked and rolled him over onto his back.

“Wait--are you sure--” Etienne gasped, finding Rhian’s teeth around his jawline. “Are you sure you want to do this?” He said, finding it hard to think, with her on him like this.

“Mmhm.” Rhian hummed against his ear, running her hands up his chest, pushing up his shirt. She pulled off his tunic, tossing it somewhere around the room. She laid kisses from his neck to his hips. His breathing nearly halted as her hands found their way in his pants.

“Rhia…” He panted, grabbing onto Rhian’s hair, back, anywhere he could find traction. She rose to his neck again, biting hard enough to leave a mark. She ran a lithe finger down his cock, enjoying the way he pulsed beneath her with need. “You fucking tease..” He hissed when she drew her hand away. When he tried to move again she seized his hands with a speed that startled him. She tugged his trousers down, making quick work of the remainder of his clothes until he was completely bare. She left a trail of bites and kisses again down to his hips, grabbing his member with one of her hands. She stroked, agonizingly slow. His hips bucked, trying to force her hand. She held him down, kissing the tip.

“Fuck…” He breathed, completely worked up. She smirked again, taking just a small amount of him in her mouth. She slid down to the base and slowly back up. Etienne shuddered.

As soon as she let down her guard just a bit, he had grabbed her and forced her on her back. She gasped, finding both hands above her head in his iron grip. He growled lowly against her neck.

“Don’t do that, Rhia.” His other hand was a fistful of Rhian’s hair. He yanked her head back, exposing her neck fully. She shivered at the feeling. In her line of work it wasn’t a position she wanted to be in, typically. He bit the tip of her ear, eliciting a small moan.

Ever since she lost her ability to speak, he craved to make her moan and scream, twisted as it was, Etienne would revel in each of her small sounds. He pulled at the buckles of her assassins’ armor. When he finally got them loose, the armor joined his clothes on the floor. Rhian tried to pry her wrists from him. He bound them with the leather strip she used to hold her hair back.

“Can’t have you getting out of this position.” He laughed at her angry huff. Etienne was fully aware she was nervous about being tied, but also aware that she loved to be ravished and taken like a whore. He knew she didn’t know what she wanted. He ran his hands down her curves, sitting back between her thighs. Her face reddened and turned to the side. He grabbed Rhian’s jaw, forcing her to look at him as he pressed a kiss on her breast, up to her neck.

“I can tell you missed me.” He whispered, biting her ear. She gasped, body twitching from the sudden spark of pain. He kissed her, demanding more from her with every passing moment. She parted her lips, allowing him access. His hand trailed down her stomach to her sex. He pressed two fingers inside of her, rubbing them against the spot he had remembered from previous times. She shuddered and moaned against her will.

He pressed against her entrance, hands rolling hardened nipples between his fingers. He buried his face in her neck, pushing into her. She gasped, writhing out of her binds. Her hands found his back, holding on tightly, wrapping her legs around him. He smirked at her submission to him. He knew she could throw him off of her, overpower him, beat him, but seeing her beneath him like this made him doubt she had complete control over him. She gripped his dusty blonde hair with one hand, digging her claws into his shoulder blade with the other, as he quickened to a pace that made it hard to think for her.

“Gods, Rhia…” He groaned into her neck, voice breathy and lost in passion, “You’re the spawn of Dibella and Sanguine.”

If she could think straight, she might have despised that idea, but right now all she could do was moan and claw at him. He bit her neck, causing a whole new string of sounds and mangled curses to rise from her lips. She reached her climax first, clamping and twitching around him, causing him to reach his. Her arms trembled as she tried to hold onto him in her breathless state. He nearly collapsed on top of her, holding himself up by one elbow, other arm going to let his hand brush strands of hair from her face.

He held eye contact with her, both recovering. He slowly pulled out of her, laying next to her after she scooted over to make room. He pulled Rhian against him, keeping an arm across her, gripping her shoulder. He buried his face in her hair again. She shrugged her shoulder, trying to get him to move, giggling at the tickling sensation.

“Stop that.” He said with a tired grin, tightening his grip and reaching around with one hand to tickle her side. She squirmed, laughing and desperately trying to grab his arm. She turned her face quickly, surprising him with a kiss, successfully stopping his tickling assault.

He laid his palm against her heated cheek, holding her in the kiss. They broke apart for air, but stayed just a hair apart. She smiled, mouthing something, despite no sound coming out. His thumb lightly stroked her cheek. He watched sleep finally take her into the soft holds of slumber.

___

Rhian woke up, with a shiver from the chill of the stone room. She felt around the bed for Etienne, opening her eyes.

 _“You knew it would happen. It was too good to be true._ ” The whisper said warmly. Rhian’s hands deftly gripped the blanket, pulling it tightly around herself. She rolled over, staring at the door, blankly.

 _“My dear, Rhia…”_ She felt the whisper waver. Rhian buried her face into the pillow. It still smelled like him. Burning Oak and Ale. She inhaled deeply, letting a small sob out of her throat. _“Don’t cry, Rhia. You knew this was what would happen.”_

She murmured something incoherent, wiping slick tears from her eyes. She rolled out of bed, sitting up and pulling her armor back onto her body. She tried to feel furious, tried to hate him for making her feel love after so long, tried to hate him for not abandoning his life for her, but in vain. Rhian stared at the table. There was a loaf of bread and a note. She reached for it and opened it, breaking the wax seal.

“I didn’t want to leave you like this, but I knew if I didn’t, I would never leave. Please forgive me. I left enough coin for a carriage ride to wherever you’re going. I love you Rhian, be safe. Please, Gods, be safe.”

Rhian stared at the note. It was too good and too hurtful to be true. A small part of her relished in the fact that he was so in love with her, that it hurt him to leave as well, but most of her was a deadened nerve, reading over the words again, noticing the small wet droplet marks that had fallen on the note as the ink dried.

She folded the note and put it in the pocket she seldom kept anything in. Last night felt like it hadn’t happened. This morning was too real. She needed to keep the note to remind herself she wasn’t alone.

 _“I will make you better, feel better, Rhia, dearest.”_ The whisper said just behind her. She only nodded, before hearing the sound of a conjuration spell.

Rhian opened her eyes to meet the light shale-colored sky, filled with clouds that were pierced lightly by distant stars and swirls of pinks and blues.

 _“Are you going to stay with me, Rhia? I would hate to let you get hurt again, my dear.”_ A familiar, spindly hand found her face, gently cupping it. She was on the platform atop the giant tree. Rhian looked up to meet the Daedra’s eyes. Mephala could see Rhian’s eyes searching for an answer, unsure of what she should do. She sighed, brushing hair from her face. “ _Yes, I have decided, Rhia, I am willing to share you. But you must forsake Sanguine and Molag Bal and Meridia.”_ Mephala said sternly, yet so quietly.

_“With those three, I do not trust your safety. With the others, however, I am willing to share.”_

Rhian had never liked being fought over as if property, much less by beings so powerful and dangerous, but she simply nodded. In brutal honesty, Rhian had never much liked either Sanguine or Molag Bal. She had yet to meet Meridia, but found that Mephala’s embrace around her made it matter not. Rhian melted into her thin arms.

 _“Good, good, my dearest. With me, you will not feel such pain again. I will do my best, my love.”_ Rhian felt a twinge of confusion and uncertainty. She had known that Daedra often manipulated souls with the promise of wealth, love, or prosperity, but Rhian wanted to believe Mephala with all of her being.

 _“You are mine, my little dragon.”_ Rhian felt warmth before awakening once again in the inn. _“You have nothing to fear now that your soul is mine.”_ Rhian was frightened at the concept, but quickly decided it was going to happen in the end, eventually, and Mephala was much preferred to Daedra such as Boethiah or Dagon.

She rose from bed and found her way to the mirror. She stared at her appearance. She bound her hair in a braid and headed for the door.

She tugged up her cowl and hood, walking silently through Markarth, aimlessly. She saw Adara running around, playing with some other local child. She saw Mulush chastising workers. She saw Ondolemer walking through the city, parading some other prisoner to the Understone Keep. She saw Ygnvar the Singer insulting some new outsider. She saw the forsworn lurk about in the shadows.

“I’m hurt, Rhia, after all I gave you, you forsake me.” The mage named Sam followed her footfall to the main gate of the city. Rhian turned around just before exiting, to make eye contact. The staff was still in the inn. She stared before turning her head and walking away. She didn’t care if he killed her. He’d caused too much trouble with her, and in return what? Some weak Dremora to do her bidding? Same with the others. Damn them. Damn anyone Mephala told her to hate.

___

“I live.. again.” A deep voice chided lowly. She stared as the ethereal subject of many stories from the Cyrodill’s own Dark Brotherhood. Rhian was crouched on the uppermost level of the deck of Katariah. She watched from her hiding place as Lucien ran into battle, ghostly dagger spilling earthly blood upon the weathered planks of the ship. As soon as the voidly assassin was sent back, the two guards that were left were met with glass arrows in their chests.

She crawled down into the ship once more, weaving through halls and doors until she finally came upon the quarters of the Emperor, Titus Mede II. Rhian stood up straight, putting her daggers back in their sheaths at her waist.

She was surprised at the willingness of Titus Mede to be assassinated.

“There’s no escaping it, hm? Just, humor me, do an old man the favor of his last wishes, will you?” Rhian stood there, nodded. She tugged her cowl down. The room upon the Katariah was heated by some sort of filtering system. “My, you’ve been through a bit… But haven’t we all.”

He mused, upon seeing the face of his assassin.

“Do you have a family?” When she didn’t answer, he continued. “I suppose you do, of some sort. I mean, for one the Dark Brotherhood, I’m sure.”

Rhian felt her chest clench at the mention. The betrayal was fresh in her mind, like a cut, festering in the desert’s merciless sun.

“But surely, there is one of your relatives you would do anything for?” He continued. “For me, that is Tamriel. As my predecessors pre-dating Martin Septim and through the lineage would agree, all of Tamriel is our child.” “That is why I’m asking you to do this. Avenge my death, for my child. I want you to kill whoever contracted you to assassinate me. I have no doubt it was someone I know, desperate and needy to find his or her way to my rule.”

“Well, down to business,” The Emperor sighed, his sigh was old and tired. “And hopefully… Sovngarde awaits me.”

He shut his eyes and turned to the window, to take one last look over the beautiful landscape of Skyrim. It almost hurt Rhian to kill him, so she quickly drove a single dagger through his heart, waiting until his body was limp before withdrawing it. She caught the body and laid it down with care into the chair at the desk.

She left that damnable boat’s innards as quickly as possible.

Sovngarde.

Selfish as it was, the old man made her think of her own fate. She would never see Sovngarde, as she had once dreamed.

Rhia sat, legs dangling over the edge of the ship, from her seat on the rail. She stared out over the Mountainous land. As Dragonborn she was destined to save it, but had no idea how. Over the past few months, she learned that the dragon inside her, the one she had absorbed was the reincarnate of the last dragonborn, killed at Helgen. They had grown fond of talking to each other. She was exuberant to mentally speak with him, missing how it felt to communicate with someone, by words.

 **“You have to save Skyrim, you can’t keep her waiting, Rhian.”** Mindokah, the Scholar, now said. She shook her head. Akatosh made a mistake in picking her.

She leaned back against one of the wooden beams. Rhian’s heart had shattered and repaired itself so many times, she wish it’d just stay broken, stay still. The latest harm to it was the betrayal; she couldn’t stop thinking about it. The way her eyes burned with tears as she saw Festus’ most painful death happen. The way her eyes burned from smoke and ears beat with the rush of blood. She watched the big bad werewolf fall like a leaf, torn apart in front of her. She had fallen by Gabrielle’s corpse.

Those misfits and villains had become her family. She had even found her heart raise lightfully whenever the Black Door welcomed her home.

“I don’t want to save Skyrim.” She said mentally. “I.. I think I want to go to Sovngarde. I don’t want to fight dragons, or become a legend. I want to be with Lucia and Etienne.” She felt warm tears once again greet the cold air. She thought she had cried all she could.

 **“Rhian, if you don’t act soon, Alduin may end the world. End Etienne and Lucia. You have to do this, maybe you’ll cleanse yourself of the Daedra, at the end.”** Mindokah said to her. She sighed. He had a point, as he often did.

____

The Initiate sat at the table across from Nazir. He was a young Khajiit boy, no older than 15. When Nazir first introduced him, Rhian was shocked, and a bit appalled at the idea of a child being in the group, but warmly welcomed him after his first two clean kills. His sick version of innocence reminded Rhian of Lucia, so she treated him so, almost coddling him.

“I need you to do something,” she quickly scratched onto parchment with charcoal and set it in front of the Initiate. He looked up at her, startled at the sudden movement.

“Yes, Listener, what do you need?” He retained a bit of the accent from his home lands, mixed with the one he found in Skyrim.

“I need you to find Lucia, at the College, and shadow her. Do not harm her, do not frighten her. She is not to be scared or threatened. I need you to tell me if she’s safe from the Thalmor.” Rhian had wrote out so quickly her hand ached and the writing was hardly legible, but the Initiate understood. Nazir had read it as well and quirked a confused face at her, but accepted the fact it was none of his business. “I will pay you well, and offer a bonus if she does not discover you.”

The Initiate nodded. Rhian had paid him to carry out odd and menial tasks in the past, but it always paid well for him. He had become well acquainted with the silent threats of the Listener as well. He knew that when she instructed for no one to be harmed, it meant if harm befell them, there would be Oblivion to pay. While it was odd, the coin was welcomed. She sat down at the table, mulling something over in her head. Recently, she had sent the Initiate to the Guild, to find Delvin and pay him to furnish the new Sanctuary.

Rhian stood up, actions unsure, and retired to her room. She had spent the entire 20,000 on the family, keeping none of it for herself. It was an odd thing, for the former thief, but she grew to love the Brotherhood too much to take from it. She walked over to the corner, unlocking a lock box she hid. She pulled the note from Etienne from it, sitting on her bed and reading it. She found herself doing this often.

She tucked the note into her breast pocket of her armor and fished out about 17k in jewels and coins. She left the Sanctuary, heading straight towards the carriage. She paid the driver, who alerted her he’d leave in an hour. Several other people were riding to Riften as well. Mindokah had told her to go there recently.

____

She sat in the carriage, tugging a woolen black cloak over her, trying to keep warm. Upon noticing her armor, the carriage driver said nothing to her, but gladly accepted the sapphires that she paid in. A nobleman, haughty and fat crawled in the carriage after a while, accompanied by a guard. He was grumbling about having to ride with others. The next person was a thin sellsword Dunmer named Janessa, from Whiterun. They recognized each other, but said nothing.

The last person was a man from the Guild. Rhian searched his face under his hood for any sign of it being someone she knew. After realizing it was Mercer, she quickly corrected the gaze to the floorboards of the carriage. He had noticed her, but with a grumpy sneer, decided it wouldn’t be worth his time to bother talking to her. Janessa moved away from the grumpy thief and sat next to Rhian, sensing the tension. Rhian let out a quiet relieved breath and stared up at the sky as the carriage began to move, rocking and shaking under the road.

___

“She is fine. There is no sign of a Thalmor agent here, there is however, a new Arch-Mage.” She read the letter the courier had delivered. She knew who it was from. She closed her eyes, silently thanking anyone who had anything to do with the Thalmor’s absence in the college.

She made her way towards a bridge that led to the steps. She had hired Janessa to accompany her, somewhere between Dawnstar and where they ended up. The Dunmer was more than happy to oblige, stunned, however, when she found out where Rhian was going. They began their trek up the cold steps. Rhian saw several people praying at shrines or resting, but continued on, knowing night would fall soon, and she wanted to be up higher than they were before she slept.

Just as planned, night had finally taken away any visibility possible just as they reached a cave a troll they slew was sleeping in. They made camp and slept on the same bedroll, using each other for body heat and security against the wind. The next morning she was woken by a courier. Stunned, dagger drawn she jumped away from Janessa to get leverage on the intruder of her sleep.

“Woah there! Just… delivering a message…” The courier was out of breath and visibly tired. He handed her a letter, with the same stamp Ja’esi, the Initiate always used. She sent him away with coin for his troubles and food for the trek back down the mountain.

She sat next to Janessa and read the letter, knowing the Dunmer wasn’t paying attention and could care less.

“She discovered me and asked me about you. How did she know? Is she your daughter? Nevermind that, she’s still okay. She wouldn’t let me leave. Made me stay with her at the College. I mean this literally, this small girl warded me in her room and won’t let me leave until I tell her where you are. My silence remains, and she has not tried to torture me, but she has made me feel guilty, and wish I never left the caravan. Please help, soon.”

Rhian felt a laugh tear through her frost chilled throat at the thought of little Lucia, no taller than a bunny warding an assassin in her room and holding him captive. She began to write a response.

“No, she is not my daughter, but you will treat her with the same respect. Family of family is family nonetheless. I need not warn you of the repercussions of killing or harming a Brother or Sisters family without contract. I will send a note with this one, instructing her to let you go. You have done well and handled the situation with care. Your payment is in a package with this letter. If you receive no such package, take it from the courier’s dead body.”

She folded the letter and put it away.

“Let’s get going, then.” Janessa said, already heading higher towards High Hrothgar.

___

 _“My love, return to the Santuary. I have left you a gift.”_ A whisper made Rhian nearly jump out of her skin. Her foot slipped and Janessa caught her. They were already halfway down the mountain. It had been two days since they made the trek up, an with a full shout under her belt, Rhian felt renewed. She had even found someone to deliver her message to Ja’esi.

They said their goodbyes at the bottom of the steps, and Rhian decided to make her way to Dawnstar on Shadowmere. She mounted and began to ride into the early morning’s brisk sunlight. She made good time, as Shadowmere wasted none, sprinting at full speed. They stopped only once on the way to Dawnstar.

 _“Yes, hurry, my dear.”_ The whisper said and faded again as she left Shadowmere at the Black Door.

“Rhian!” A shrill voice screamed, as Rhian was attacked by arms around her neck as soon as she shut the door behind her. Lucia squeezed her neck, holding onto her tightly, despite her feet dangling far from the ground. She wore mage’s robes that were altered to fit her tiny frame. She estimated she was around the age of Ja’esi, but was still a tiny girl.

Rhian stood there, stunned but then returned the embrace. Her loved ones often had a way of seemingly popping up out of no where at her. Ja’esi stood behind Lucia, face drawn tightly. She eyed him, trying to decide whether to kill him or praise him. She hadn’t feared for Lucia’s life, especially not in the Sanctuary, but she didn’t want Lucia entangling with assassins, even despite her shared history with thieves.

“I’ve missed you so much…” Lucia still clung to her, now held securely by Rhian. Rhian nodded, setting the girl down.

“Ah, Listener, there you are.” Babette said. The girl always had made Rhian unnerved. The small child held herself like a grown woman, which played with Rhian’s understanding of logic. She knew she was a vampire, but it still made for an odd happening. “I didn’t know what to do with the girl. Neither did Ja’esi.” She jabbed the cat in the side, causing him to hiss painfully and and curse at her.

“Are you going to make me leave, Rhia…?” Lucia looked up at her. Rhian nodded, half heartedly. She gently took Lucia’s hand and led her out. She stared at Shadowmere, who held the eye contact.

Rhian mounted the horse and held a hand out for Lucia to sit in the saddle in front of her. Lucia obliged, hesitantly.

___

“Welcome home, my Thane.” Gregor said, meeting her at the stable where she placed Shadowmere. “You have a … daughter?”

Rhian sighed loudly, but nodded, not wanting to go through the age old question.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Lucia, from the Mage’s College!” She held out her hand. Gregor laughed a bit, slipping from his stern demeanor, at the girl’s enthusiasm. They shook hands.

“Is she staying at the house permanently?”

“Wait… House? Your House? Thane? Of here?” Lucia spun looks between the two.

“Yes! Rhian the Bear is also the Thane of the Pale.” Gregor told Lucia. Rhian shook her head and rolled her eyes, entering the house. She still wasn’t sure how her, a known assassin, thief, and enemy to the Thalmor managed to become a thane. The two followed.

“Wow! The house is huge!” Lucia gasped, running around, exploring the house. “Can I really stay here?!” Rhian nodded.

“Would you like me to buy her a horse, for travels between the College and here?” Gregor questioned, following Rhian like a puppy. Rhian nodded and handed him the coin. Lucia looked up at her, mouth agape. Rhian leaned over and kissed Lucia on the forehead.

“Thank you so much… I don’t know what to say…”

“Come, I’ll show you to your room.” Gregor said, cheerful that the house he guarded wouldn’t be empty as often.

___

“I’m sorry, my Listener.” Ja’esi pleaded, following her from the house. “Please, is there anything I can do to atone?” He felt himself trembling. Typically, Rhian wasn’t scary, but the stories he had heard about her all too enthusiastic almost sexual killing were terrifying to him, even as an assassin.

She sighed and turned around, facing him completely. She grabbed his shoulders and hugged him. Rhian was genuinely thankful for the boy and his actions. She felt the boy nearly cease to breathe, expecting a dagger at any second. She let him go and gave him one of the many amulets that helped her clunky frame sneak. He stared at it, then her, then back at it, confused.

“Then, if it isn’t too much to ask, may I visit her? I won’t ever see her again if you will it.” He said quietly. Rhian crouched down with her hands on her knees, eyeing him suspiciously before smirking. She nodded. His face held relief.

 _“How cute. Now Lucia has a home and a devoted protector.”_ The whisper said with an air of satisfaction. Rhian smiled. The recent communication had been the first since she gave herself to Mephala, and even that little sound of the whisper made her less attached the idea of Sovngarde.

____

“So begins the contract, bound in blood.” The mother spoke to her, as she tugged her hood up. She wrote down what she heard, save one of the seven contracts. She handed them to Nazir, starting out for Markarth.

 _“It really is a city of blood. So many people wanting others dead, so many unwilling to do it themselves. An excellent place to… weave a bloody tapestry.”_ The whisper laughed, tugging at the corner of Rhian’s mouth, causing her to grin. Her mistress was deadly and evil, but had some sort of affliction consisting of making jokes about spiders or sewing. It always would make Rhian shake her head and laugh.

Rhian pushed open the doors just enough to slip into the city. “Pssst. I know who you are… Hail Sithis.” Rhian turned her head, holding contact with the guard, making him jump. Plenty of the people of Skyrim liked to try to attract and join the Brotherhood by uselessly appealing to her and murdering randomly. She scoffed and walked away. She made her way to the mines.

She approached Ennoc who greeted her with outstretched arms. “Rhian! It’d been so long, I thought you died! But then I heard rumors… dark rumors. That must be why you’re here then, right?” Ennoc cleared his throat, sitting down on a pile of mined ore. She joined him.

During her time in Markarth, they hadn’t grown close, but a familiar face made both of them smile.

“It’s Mulush.” He said outright, catching her by surprise. “I know--I know, but listen, I have a good reason…” He cleared his throat. “He’s been trying to have his way with one of the new miners--I mean, he always was, with the exception of you, of course.” Rhian paused, giving him the most confused face she could muster.

“What? You never noticed? Rhian…” He said in disbelief. “Mulush is a pedophile. He was always fond of you, but you were so imposing he never made a move. Now he has. We think he’s trying to replace you. He’s hiring young sixteen year olds and forcing them to work twice as hard as us. Recently, a girl that looked a lot like you. It’s creepy, and we didn’t know what to do… other than this.”

Rhian stared, in disbelief and embarrassment and disgust.

 _“That really is vile._ ” The whisper said. She nodded and stood up. She hugged Ennoc once more before slipping into the shadows.

That made a whole lot of sense, now that Rhian thought about it. His lingering stares, prolonged brushes of the skin when he would tap her shoulder or hand her something. She shuddered at the thought. _Maybe he was in love._ She mused, tasting bile at the back of her throat. That would make sense, him killing Cosnach.

She picked the lock to his house and slipped inside. He was sleeping on a poor man’s version of a bed. He stirred. She stopped for a moment. The information she got could make this a lot more fun. She pulled down her hood and cowl, tapping him on the shoulder.

“You shouldn’t be in here--...” He had rolled over, and stared her straight in the eye. She was crouched down, head tilted, dagger in hand. His eyes saw the dagger and shot back up at hers. She smirked.

“Rhian…? Why are you in here?” He cleared his throat, sitting up. She sat on the bed next to him, tilting her head away to not make eye contact.

 _“That is evil,”_ The whisper said with amusement, _“and yet so entertaining.”_ Rhian sat her empty hand on the bed next to him.

“Did something happen?” He cleared the lump in his throat again, clearly nervous. “Did you need something?” His hand inched towards hers as if on its own. She looked at him, letting his hand fall over hers. She smiled a little.

“It’s been a while. Nice to see you back in Markarth…” He tried to make conversation with the mute. She inched closer, close enough for her light breath to be felt on his arm. His breath caught, other hand going out to hold her shoulder. “Are you…” He didn’t continue, afraid to presume anything.

She leaned her head against his shoulder, looking up at him. He smiled. Gods, he’s sick. His hand grazed over her cheek. “Are you inviting me to…?” Rhian looked up at the ceiling, as if thinking, before nodding.

He turned his body towards her, shaking hands feeling her breasts, her curves. The armor left almost nothing to the imagination, and yet so aptly shielded her from outside sensations. He placed a hand on her lower back, lowering her onto her back.

He didn’t notice when her arms went to wrap around his neck. He lowered his face to hers, only to be met by a dagger in his eye. He made to move but quickly fell dead against her. She moved, cleaning the blood off the dagger, and sheathing it. She spat on his corpse before exiting. A guard saw her, but noticed her hood and turned a blind eye. Ennoc was waiting for her outside. He smiled.

____

Rhian made her way to Candlehearth Hall. The next contractor was waiting for her. He was a Breton, seated by the hearth where she usually sat. Stenvar, a well known sellsword was with him.

“Oh, you must be with the Brotherhood.” He stood up and held out a hand. He smiled. She hesitated and shook his hand, immediately tugging hers back, noticing a needle in her palm. She shot him a glare before falling to the ground. He stared down at her, a familiar fire in his eyes. She could hear Mindokah roaring in her ears. She fell asleep.


	15. Captivity

“You’re up.” The voice of the Breton. “I was worried I may have too strongly poisoned it.” She heard the crackling of a fire in the distance, echoing off of… stone walls. She sat up. She was in a cellar.

 

“I noticed your tongue, so I’m going to keep talking.” He said matter-of-factly from a Grindstone where he worked on his iron sword. She felt around for her weapon. “Yes, I’ve removed them. I’ve also removed your hidden weapons. They’re safe in a chest. I didn’t trust you enough to have them.”

 

Rhian growled, trying to stand up before being tugged back to the ground by chains around her neck and wrist.

 

“Sorry, sweetheart, but I know you’re the Listener--and the _former Dragonborn!_ ” He laughed, “I can’t just let you free.”

 

She hissed, yanking at them before giving up.

 

“You’re in Whiterun. Jorrvaskr, to be specific. You know, where the Companions are.” He elaborated. “I’m the Harbinger, and also the Dovahkiin.” His smirk was too smug. She wanted to slice it off of him.

 

“Yes, you’re safe here.” He walked over to her and put his sword away. She made to shout, finding herself unable.

 

 **“Mindokah?”** She inwardly screamed, frightened now. **“Mindokah, where are you?! Answer me, deadman!”**

 

She stared up at the Breton.

 

“Oh! I haven’t told you my name!” He cleared his throat before taking off his helmet.

“Varnon Stormblade, at your service.” He mock-bowed, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. She rose her hands and bashed him with the cuffs she was in. He stumbled back, collecting himself, squaring his jaw in anger.

 

“Don’t do that again, or I’ll cut off your hands.” He hissed, rubbing blood from his pretty face. Rhian felt herself withdraw, mentally calling out for Mephala to save her, only to get no answer.

 

“Well, love, I’ll be back. Got the whole of Nirn to save from Alduin, you know.” He shrugged, standing up. She glared as he left.

 

Rhian looked around. She had been in Jorrvaskr before, and never seen this place. She assumed it was a hidden cellar. She cleared her throat and waited a few moments after he left before letting out as loud of a scream as she could muster, then nothing.

 

Watching the ladder eagerly, she felt her pulse slowing. Gods, at least the Thalmor were straightforward. What does this man want? When no one came down she sighed, silently accepting her fate.

 

Loud footsteps stormed down.

 

 _Shit, maybe I shouldn’t have._ She thought before seeing it was one of the bulky Nord twins instead of Varnon. When they made eye contact he froze, confused, then walked over to her, sitting down in front of her. She rolled her eyes. _Great, it’s the slow one._

__  
  


“Why are you in here…? Chained up?” He stared. “I didn’t know we even had a cellar.” _Well, not much gets by you, does it?_

 

“C’mon, answer me. Why are you in here?”

 

Rhian opened her mouth and let her mangled tongue lull out just barely past her lips, as far as she could reach. Hopefully, he would get it.

 

“Oh.” Well, he’s not that slow. “So… Harbinger Varnon is keeping you in here? … Is this some sort of couple thing? He said he was bringing his wife here.” Rhian gave him the most disgusted look she could muster.

 

“Well, whatever you did, doesn’t matter. Varnon has good judgement. He wouldn’t do anything bad.” Farkas told himself. “Stop screaming. You woke us up.”

 

“Say, you look familiar…” It took him a moment. “Oh! Rhian. I remember you dad having us babysit you when I was a teen. You liked to pick fights with Vilkas.” He smiled at her.

 

She huffed as the dumb one left. She sat back against the wall and crossed her legs. If she were to be imprisoned again, she might as well try something she hadn’t tried before.

 

 _“Yes, seduction is a possible way out.”_ The whisper interupted her train of thought. _“But I am sending someone for you, my love.”_ Rhian sighed with relief. Her mistress hadn’t forgotten her. _“However… it is Namira’s champion, so you must return a favor to her.”_

 

Namira… that sounded so familiar. _Isn’t she the one with cannibals and necrophiliacs?_ Then Rhian laughed. _Well, I’m not a necrophiliac or cannibal, but anything beats staying with this guy._

 

“Ah, there you are!” Eola’s cheerful and seductive voice called. “Sorry, hard to find your way around the big boat the first time. So then, dearie, you ready to become the new champion for our lady?”

 

Rhian nodded and Eola  clipped her chains off her wrists and neck. Rhian smiled brightly at her.

 

“Come then, we must go to the lady’s shrine, to attend a feast!” Rhian followed. She was never fond of cannibalism, but Mephala had arranged it, so it would be so.

 

___

 

“Tonight, we have salted and stored Orc meat. From that Overseer they found dead.” Eola chimed to her guests and Rhian, who all sat at a long table.

 

 _Oh. That’s the twist._ Rhian felt herself chuckle.

 

A plate was put in front of her. It was red, cured meat with the green flesh still attached. She recognized the edge of a dagger wound and drew the conclusion that the small piece of meat was from his face.

 

She smirked, picking up her fork and daintily beginning to eat. It hadn’t tasted good, or anywhere like she thought eating a person would. It tasted like wolf with rock-joint, but she ate it nonetheless. The others seemed to enjoy it.

 

At the end she was given a ring that accompanied her bracelet of Mephala. It was gold and had a design she didn’t recognize on it. She smiled, rotating it; it certainly was pretty.

 

“With that, whenever you eat from a fresh corpse, Namira will be with you.” Eola smiled warmly at her. Rhian nodded, leaving the secret temple. “Our mistress has said you will earn her favor at a later time, lucky you.”

 

She wasn’t three steps out before bumping into a full set of heavy armor. She stumbled backwards, pulling her dagger.

 

“Oh, my beautiful wife, why are you all the way out here?” A hand flew over her mouth.

 

Varnon had her against the rock, pinned and stabbed in the stomach. She panicked.

 

 _“Rhian!”_ She heard the whisper say as a full voice. It rung in her ears. She fell unconscious, with the fleeting thought that she was very tired of getting kidnapped.

 

___

 

She sat up in the familiar field of soft grass. She smiled warmly, running her hands through them and stretching out in them. Mephala’s realm.

 

I must be dead, then.

 

“ _No, just dreaming.”_ Her eyes shot up to meet Mephala’s. A spidery hand was outstretched. Rhian took it and accepted the help to her feet.

 

Mephala’s face, one she had thought had a permanent smile was twisted with concern and worry. Rhian was genuinely confused.

 

“My mistress, you already have my soul, what is there to worry about?” Rhian had never opened her mouth, but with her numerous conversations with the Daedra, she spoke through her mind.

  
  


_“You foolish mortal, you know exactly why I am pained. Stop being stubborn and just accept it as it is.”_ Rhian stared past her shoulder, have denying the truth in front of her. _“That damnable Breton man is Sanguine’s new champion. He is trying to get revenge on me, for taking you.”_ Rhian looked up at her. Mephala’s eyes roamed over her face, her hand cupped her jaw. Their lips met. Rhian hesitantly closed her eyes and leaned into the intoxicating kiss.

 

Mephala pulled away, stroking Rhian’s bottom lip with a thumb.

 

 _“Rhian, I can’t locate you, or talk to you when you wake up. He took your artifacts. I didn’t know that mine was able to be removed. I’m sorry…”_ Rhian just stared up at her, in a state of unbelief. Mephala sighed as Rhian faded from her realm. Waking up, no doubt.

 

“You really do sleep a lot, girlie.” Varnon’s _fucking_ voice woke her up. Rhian jumped at the sudden sound, rudely roused from her dream.

 

“Oh what? Having a good dream? Sorry, dear.” He patted her head. She growled, forcing against her chains. “You know, I really do like seeing you in that collar and cuff. It’s fitting.” He admired.

 

Rhian felt her blood boil. She tried to shout, only an incoherent scream ripping from her throat. She stared at Varnon. Nothing had happened.

 

“Ah, you know, Akatosh took away your dragon blood. You weren’t using it, after all. Alduin half destroyed Sovngarde and you left him no choice.” Varnon boasted.

 

 _You should have stayed in the afterlife_ , she thought spitefully. He leaned down brushing hair out of her face.

 

“I heard that you saw Farkas last time you were here. Handsome isn’t he? Too bad you’re all mine now. I saw how he acted. You can trap just about anyone with that cute little figure of yours.” His hand grabbed her hip. She did her best to shy away from his touch. He laughed.

 

“No getting away this time, sweetie. Oh, I almost forgot. Now that you’re awake…” He moved her into a bed that was near enough for her chains to reach. It was grand, having four posts that held a red, sheer curtain draped over the entire bed, half hiding whoever would be in it. She struggled the entire way, using her advantage of strength to stop him.

 

He held up his hand, a blackened void-like light emitting from it. She felt her bones weaken beneath the spell that enveloped her. He tossed her onto the mattress, falling on top of her.

 

He grabbed her chin, seizing her lips. Rhian held hers clamped tightly together. He sighed, frustrated before shoving his hands between her legs. The unwelcome intrusion caused her to gasp.

 

“You will give yourself to me. Even if I have to break you to get your consent.” The twisted idea brought a heavy feeling of dread to Rhian. He stood, off of her completely. He pulled the thin dress, he had put on her previously, off of her. She felt more bare than she ever did, trying to cover herself.

 

“Stop resisting, dearest wife. You’re making this harder than it needs to be.” He grabbed her waist, and conjured lighting to his palms. She spasmed and twitched beneath him, feeling the sting of tears in her eyes.

 

“Do I have it now?”

 

She shook her head, causing him to sneer.

 

“It’s because you’re still in love with _Etienne Rarnis._ ” He growled, standing up from her.

 

Her eyes widened at the mention.

 

“Yeah, I’m surprised you didn’t recognize the armor on the mannequin. I’m the leader of the Thieves’ Guild, and I know all about what happened.” He growled. “Give yourself to me, or I’ll bring him here and kill him, _slowly,_ in front of you.”

 

Rhian stared into his eyes for a moment, before giving up on resisting.

 

“Good girl,” He said into her ear.

 

Then, she did something she hadn’t in the longest time. She blocked out all physical sensations and feelings, completely retreating into the back of her mind.

 

She mulled over details of everything that was happening that didn’t make sense.

 

 _Why had Mother sent her to this man? Who was the contract against?_ She closed her eyes when she was ripped from her own world by a sharp pain between her legs.

 

She felt tears spill over, dripping softly down her temples, into her hair, as he pumped into her. She breathed heavily, trying to cope with the pain she hadn’t felt in such a long time.

 

____

 

 _“My love…”_ Rhian awoke in her dream, in the loving soft grass. Mephala had kneeled in front of her. _“You’re so damaged… so weakened…”_ She thought she heard a cry.

 

 _“Please, fight, Rhian. Fight, struggle, resist… Do something. Please, Rhia.”_ She was embraced warmly.

 

“I don’t want to anymore… I’m really tired of resisting.” Rhian’s voice was foreign in her own ears.

 

_“It’s not your time yet, Rhia. You can’t join me yet. You have to stay on Nirn. Don’t let that despised Breton win. It’s only been a year and he’s broken you.”_

 

It was surreal to hear a Daedra say such things.

 

_“Rhia, don’t die. Stop willing yourself here.”_

____

 

“Well, dear, I’ve been thinking.” Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of Varnon’s voice. His arms were wrapped possessively around her, as they lied in the lavish bed. “I think it’s time we finally went to the Temple of Mara.” He planted a kiss on her cheek.

 

“Let’s go now.” He said, standing up. She hadn’t had the chains on in so long, but his threats and constant forcing her to consume some sort of drug were binding enough.

 

She walked closely behind him and climbed the ladder to the upper level of Jorrvaskr. One of the twins gave her an odd look, that she couldn’t quite understand.

 

Varnon grabbed her hand, possessiveness returning in the company of a fellow werewolf. He guided her out and to a carriage that had been waiting outside of Whiterun. He put her between the wall of the carriage and himself, never letting go of her hand.

 

“Look dear, look what I got you.” He placed an expensive, golden circlet on her head. She watched his hands. “Pretty as you are.” He planted another kiss on her scarred cheek.

 

One of the others in the carriage looked clearly uncomfortable. Rhian hadn’t spoken, hardly moved, scarcely breathed. She looked sickly and half dead, as result of not eating.

 

She heard a hiss from one of the carriage riders. She looked up. A young Khajiit sat directly across from her, but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember his name. She looked back down at the floor.

 

Noticing the Khajiit in Dark Brotherhood armor, Varnon pulled Rhian flush against his side with a strong arm.

 

____

 

“Aren’t you so happy we’re finally married, love?” Varnon said, kissing Rhian’s neck as he sat her in a chair in Honeyside Manor. He had grown accustomed to her complete muteness.

 

Rhian felt his hands, pulling off her clothes and jewelry, then warm water, rushing over her. He often bathed her, keeping her appearance up. She lifted no muscle to assist him, as per usual.

 

She stared at the floorboards as he washed her down, anointing her with scented oils, as if she were a corpse. His hands brushed over her with oil or soap or some combination of the two.

 

Eventually, when he was done feeling or bathing her, he pulled her out of the chair and dried her off.

 

“You look tired. I’ll let you sleep.” He pushed her onto the bed, forcing a liquid down her throat, as he often did to make her sleep at night, finding that otherwise, she never would. She closed her eyes.

 

____

 

 _“My dear…”_ The lingering words filled her ears as she woke up at Honeyside, covered in blood. She looked down at her body and sat up with vigor she hadn’t had since she escaped him, last.

 

“Yeah, _of course_ that would wake you up.” Varnon said spitefully, tossing another bucket of the warm blood on her, ruining the bed.

 

She screamed, recoiling and looking around, disoriented. All the Skooma, Sleeping Tree Sap, Moon Sugar, and Potions he put in her still messed with her head. She believed it to be her own blood.

 

“Stop yelling!” He reached for her, striking her across the face. She growled at him, a feral look taking her whole.

 

“Look what I did for you!” He screamed, “How dare you spite me! I killed for you, Rhian!”

 

She screamed something at him, lunging for him.

 

_“Kill him.”_

 

Rhian slammed a heavy fist into his face, knocking him out before he could do anything. Guards came running in, upon hearing screaming. She continued to bash him with her fists until he heard his skull crack and splinter several times. They seized her arms, dragging her out of the house, some gagged. One of the guards that had been observing lost his dinner.

 

The dragonborn laid dead; head turned completely to mush. His wife struggled before seeing a spider on one of the guard’s helmets. It crawled onto her wrist and formed the familiar cuff of the bracelet.

 

She was tossed in a barred cell with another person.

 

“Damn, we gotta stop meeting like this, Rhia.-- Rhia?” Thrynn stood in front of her, catching her as she staggered. He sat her down, carefully on the bedroll. He sat in front of her.

 

She looked dazed and rabid.

 

He shook her shoulders gently, only to be met with the most unnerving stare she’d ever given him. What eye that was there held no contempt or love, only the remnants of Skooma mixed with a sleeping syrup.

 

“By Nocturnal, what did he do to you to make you like this…”

 

Dried blood chipped off of her, fresh blood and brain matter dripped from her fists. He pulled off his tunic, using it to clean what blood he could off of her.

 

“Hey, don’t touch her.” A Khajiit accent interrupted him just as he finished getting what blood he could off of her.

 

“You’re not a guard, who the fuck do you think you are?” Thrynn stood up, defensively. “I’ll touch her if I want, she’s a good friend of mine.”

 

“No, you will not!” Hissed the boy, “She is the Listener of the Night Mother! Don’t. Touch. Her.”

 

Thrynn stood there for a moment before grabbing the iron bars, nearly bending them.

 

“Where the fuck were you guys when this happened, huh?! Delvin said you guys were gonna protect her!”

 

“From your leader!”

 

“He hasn’t been in the damned cistern in so long that Brynjolf became the leader--he is nothing to the Guild! Was… nothing.” Thrynn corrected.

 

Ja’esi took a step back, calming himself down before turning to one of the guards. A knife flew out of his claws with such a speed, Thrynn didn’t see it before it was in the guard’s head. Ja’esi walked over and grabbed keys.

 

“Pick her up, brute.” The Khajiit ordered.

 

Thrynn muttered something. Rhian looked up at him.

 

“Gods, what happened…” He murmured as she held her arms out to be picked up. He hoisted her into his arms as instructed. Ja’esi scowled, opening the door to the cell.

 

Rhian curled up against Thrynn, despite not recognizing him. Ja’esi led the two out, throwing small iron knives into anyone he saw between the cell and the exit.

 

“To Dawnstar. I need you to carry her.” He said quietly.

 

“Absolutely not.” Thrynn adjusted his grip on the Nord girl and held her tightly. “She’s coming to the cistern.”

 

“I--No, she has to…” Ja’esi sighed. “Wherever she goes, this one goes.”

 

Thrynn shrugged at this, leading the Khajiit to a secret entrance. He entered the cistern. Many of the thieves and new faces turned in shock. Thrynn sat her down in her former bed.

 

“What are you doing?” Brynjolf rushed over.

 

“It doesn’t matter anymore. She’s not dragonborn. She killed Varnon. What’s the problem?” Thrynn said harshly. “Why can’t she just stay here?”

 

Brynjolf thought for a second. “You’re right, just don’t let the lass out of sight. She looks deranged.”

 

Rhian looked around, watching everyone. Ja’esi pulled a chair next to the bed and sat in it.

 

“Ja’esi has seen this. She has been fed raw Moon sugar too much. Nords can’t handle moon sugar in its pure form on its own. She’s had far too much of it.” He examined her. Rhian grabbed his hand, just holding it, doing what she was so accustomed to. Ja’esi pulled it away, warily.

 

“She needs water--actually, just let me do it.” Ja’esi stood up. “You. Sit there. Don’t let her go to sleep. She could die.” He pointed Etienne to the seat.

 

Etienne sat, staring at his lover as she twitched occasionally and held his hand.

 

“Rhia…? Rhia, what’s wrong?” He said, past the lump in his throat.

 

“Etienne, don’t forget you have a job to do. Don’t let this get in the way.” Sapphire said sharply. “Go do it, I’ll sit there.” She pointed to the door. He opened his mouth to argue. “Now.”

 

He got up, pulling his hand out of Rhia’s soft grip. Sapphire sat down. Rhian tried to lean on her, lay her head on her, or cuddle up to her, but Sapphire planted her down on the bed.

 

“Stop, Rhian. Stop being crazy.”

 

Rhian just stared at her, from where she forced her to stay.

 

Ja’esi returned with a bottle of black liquid. He held it to the lips of the Listener. Luckily, she drank it without much struggle. She made a face and jerked away from him, feeling sick. He rushed to the other side of the bed, holding a bucket in front of her. He held her hair back as she vomited fermented Moon Sugar and what little food she had eaten in the past week into the bucket.

 

She rolled onto her back, tears in her eyes.

 

Ja’esi came back later with a jug of water and a bowl of ice that he got one of the mages at the Temple of Mara to freeze. He broke up the ice, making splinters and slices of it. He wrapped small pieces of it in linen and placed it over her forehead.

 

She lay completely still, unblinking even, staring up at the familiar ceiling. Ja’esi stayed at her side, replacing the ice, forcing her to drink water or eat bread. Etienne returned.

 

“Yes, she’ll be okay, no thanks to any of you.” Ja’esi hissed at him. “Your leader did this to her.”

 

“I’m so sorry…” Etienne kneeled next to the bed. He picked up her hand, staring at the bracelet then at her. She had turned her head before finally recognizing him. She squeezed his hand tightly.

 

“Rhia?” She moved sluggishly to hug him. Ja’esi reached out, instinctively to stable her. She clung tightly to Etienne, not letting him move.

 

“It’s okay. He’s dead. You killed him.” Rhian laid back down, still holding onto his hand.

 

Ja’esi watched Etienne’s every move, wary and cautious, until he heard a familiar and very distinct voice.

 

“Ah see the girl’s up an’ found herself rescued again, by us, no less.”

 

“By this one.” Ja’esi hissed.

 

“An’ what’s this, then? Her little house cat come to her aid? How right.” Delvin walked up to the bed. “Sorry about leavin’ you with those killers, but it was the best place for you at the time. Heard you became the Listener. Congratulations.”

 

Rhian looked him up and down before recognizing him and smiling.

 

“Don’t do that, now. It’s frightening.” He laughed. “You look like you came straight outa Oblivion.”

 

Rhian thought for a moment before nodding. In one way, she had.


	16. Rhian the Bear

Back to business as usual for the Guild. Thrynn, Etienne and Rhian left out on jobs all across Skyrim, Rhian and Thrynn would be the distraction, while Etienne would rob them blind. Or Etienne would wait outside and Rhian and Thrynn would emerge covered in blood. For months, this went on. Etienne and Rhian were closer than ever, both with Thrynn. 

 

Then, they found themselves in Whiterun, in front of Jorrvaskr. Rhian stayed in front of the two men, entering and finding her way to a woman named Aela, the current Harbinger.

 

“Ah, you’re here.” She said almost scornfully, looking up from her tankard. “Down to business, then.” She sighed, clearly distressed about having the Guild there. “This way.” The three thieves got glares and uneasy stares as they followed the redhead down steps, towards a bedroom that Rhian recognized all too well.

 

“Sit down, whoever is the leader of you bunch.”

 

The three looked between each other, then Etienne sat down, uneasily.

 

“Look, I don’t want you here, but due to.. recent activity, we have need of your services.”

 

“Yeah, otherwise we wouldn’t be in here.” Thrynn said.

 

“I need you to steal something that was stolen from us. We’ve hit something of a rough patch.”

 

“Elaborate.” Etienne motioned with his hand.

 

Aela almost put an arrow in his eye for his rudeness, grinding her teeth together.

 

“A group called the Silver Hand stole one of our whelps.”

 

The three thieves exchanged looks.

 

“I know, typically you probably don’t deal in people, but we’ll pay whatever we can. We already sent our two best warriors down there. They haven’t returned.”

 

Rhian nodded.

 

“So, is that a yes, you’ll help?” The redhead didn’t seem happy about it. “Good, bring the whelp back **alive** , thieves.”

 

____

 

“Hello? I can see you! Please get me out of here!” A tiny voice begged. This whelp, “Ria”, was being held in a cage. Etienne hushed her. “Vilkas and Farkas are up ahead. They haven’t come out yet…”

 

Thrynn muttered something about stupidity, picking the lock and pulling her out of the cage.

 

“I don’t think I can walk…” Ria said, shaking.

 

Thrynn sighed and sat down next to her.

 

“You two go up ahead. Be careful.” Thrynn was rumaging in his bag to look for something to heal the girl.

 

Etienne and Rhian did so, sneaking past chatting warriors and half dead werewolves.

 

“Shit!” Etienne hissed as Rhian heard a clamping sound. She turned around. “Wow. This is just fuckin dandy.” He breathed heavily, in pain. The jaws of a bear trap caught his leather boots.

 

Rhian just stared, not sure what to do.

 

“I’m going back. You can handle this. Here.” He handed her a sword they took from a corpse. “Be careful. If you doubt that you can complete the task at hand, come back.” He downed some sort of potion and began to pry at the snare.

 

She took a deep breath and nodded, falling into the shadows. After what felt like a lifetime of skulking about, she came across a long corridor filled with werewolves. She heard some of them breathing, others were dead.

 

“Rhian. Hey.” She heard a whisper from one of the cages. She whipped her head around in disbelief. She made eye contact with bright silver eyes. She put the situation together and smirked.

 

“Get me out of here, milk-drinker.” Vilkas hissed. Rhian glanced at the lock and started to attempt to pick it. When she broke her last lockpick she looked around for a key. Fuming at her failure, she sat down, trying to think of a way to bust the apparent werewolf twins out of their cell.

 

“Did you run out of lock picks?” Farkas said hushedly. “Don’t you have thief friends that can help.”

 

She sighed remembering the two that came along but basically left this in her less than experienced hands. Eventually she became so fed up with the lock, that she drove her ebony dagger into it, breaking it and successfully breaking her dagger. She looked down at it, as if to mourn it but put it in it’s sheath.

 

“Thanks, but we need your help with another thing.” Vilkas said quietly. “We’re going to kill every last one of the Silver Hand bastards, it’d be great if you helped us.”

 

Rhian looked him up and down. No armor, No weapon. She gave him a look but nodded, unsheathing her collected sword. She opened the door leading to the next part of this ever-continuing fortress.

 

That’s when she heard growling. She turned around to see both brothers transforming into damned beasts. She shivered at the thought of how their human bones were made into werewolf bones.

 

Both ran up ahead of her, forcing her to tail them quickly, as they tore through the Silver Hand. She bloodied her blade as well, picking off the ones that tried to come up behind them.

 

Rhian whipped her head around in time to barely dodge a stab in the neck. She grabbed the man by his sword arm and neck. She turned his sword on him and stabbed it through his stomach. As soon as she dropped him, someone grabbed her blade from her. She swirled around, trying to grab it back, instead grabbing the woman by her armor. Rhian grabbed her head and snapped her neck, letting her corpse fall on top of her comrade’s corpse.

 

A silver dagger slid between Rhian’s ribs. She staggered but yanked it out, slashing through the face of her attacker. She knelt down while the two werewolves picked apart the rest of the Silver Hand.

 

The last thing she knew she was being picked up, before she fell unconscious from blood loss.

 

___

 

 _“Ah, you’re here. I… hadn’t been watching… what happened?”_ Mephala said, scooping up Rhian in her arms and holding her close.

 

“I… I’m not sure. I think I got stabbed. Am I dead?”

 

 _“Yes, and no. You’re here, you’re not in your body, yes. But your body is still breathing. I suggest you get back to it, love.”_ She planted a gentle kiss on Rhian’s head. 

 

“Do I have to?”

 

 _“For Etienne, yes.”_ She smiled a sharp toothed, but sincere smile at the Nord.

 

“Damnit.” Rhian sighed, lingering in Mephala’s embrace before feeling herself slip away.

 

___

 

“Thank the Nine, she’s alive.” A gruff voice said.

 

“Just barely.” Another one said.

 

She opened her eyes, trying to get the situation into her mind. Her entire world was being bounced up and down. She was being carried. She grabbed onto the one-who-was-carrying-her’s shoulders, blinking away bits of sleep and blood from her eyes. She nearly sat up, before realizing she was riding on his back and just gave up, mumbling something that wouldn’t have been understood if she said it louder.

 

“Hey, why haven’t you talked to us?” The meaner of the two brothers said.

 

“She doesn’t have a tongue.” The dumb one said.

 

“What? Did it get cut out?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

Rhian rolled her eyes, sighing with frustration at their useless conversation. Up ahead she heard her two favorite voices, causing her to sit up quickly. Farkas almost dropped her at the sudden action. Vilkas put a hand on her back to steady her, laughing.

 

“Rhian!” Etienne bust through the door, hearing the three’s footsteps. “--Why are you carrying her?” The thief was almost met with a greatsword, but Vilkas stood back upon recognizing the thief’s armor.

 

“Got stabbed, passed out, carried her.” Farkas said, simply.


	17. Lucia's Mother

“You let her get stabbed? You fucking dogs!” Etienne yelled, approaching them in aggression. “She could die! Did you help her at least? None of us has anything to help her!”

 

“Calm down, yelling won’t help. We’ll get her to Danica in Whiterun. She’ll be able to heal her.” Vilkas said calmly, beginning to head for the exit. The party followed him.

 

“If she dies…” Etienne left the warning there, watching Rhian slip between consciousness and sleep.

 

____

 

“It doesn’t look good.” Danica admitted, keeping a healing ward over her. “Sovngarde is calling her… I can see it in her eyes.”

 

“She can’t die.” Thrynn said, arms crossed. His body posture reflected how insecure he was about it.

 

“Mmehfff…Mmeffahlla.” Rhian mumbled, eyes floating between unseen things in the room.

 

“Someone should send word to Lucia.”

 

____

 

Lucia threw open the door to the building. Sick soldiers of both sides lay on the floor, groaning in pain. A few citizens with diseases stayed in a corner, sitting up or crying out. Rhian was laying on one of the stone beds. In Whiterun it was customary to lay the near dead on stone, so that their soul would not get comfortable and stay in this world.

 

Ja’esi was close behind her, slinking quickly.

 

“Rhia! Where’s Rhia?” The girl screamed, grabbing one of the priests. He pointed and she ran over. _“Rhia…”_ She fell to her knees in front of Rhian, holding her hand, trying to warm it.

 

Thrynn and Etienne stayed next to the bed, silent, knowing. Ja’esi stayed just behind Lucia, gently rubbing her back as she cried into Rhian’s hand.

 

“Llll… Lluckia.” Rhian opened her eyes, now forcing herself to articulate, despite how embarrassing and painful it had been.

 

Lucia’s head shot up, making eye contact with her. She felt a new wave of sobs hit her as Rhian smiled, gripping her hand tightly.

 

“Rhia… you’re coming home, right?”

 

Rhian took a moment, but then nodded. She was going home, she made peace with that already.

 

Rhian stared at Lucia’s face, then Ja’esi’s, then Thrynn and Etienne’s. She smiled genuinely, closing her eyes. Her other hand found Etienne’s. His hands trembled as he held it.

 

“Join your Brothers and Sisters in the void, my Listener.” Ja’esi said so quietly that he was sure only Rhian heard it. She looked at him, still smiling. “May it bring you peace.”

 

Rhian nodded then looked to someone the others didn’t see, nodding again. She closed her eyes. This had been one of the happiest moments of her life. Surrounded here with her lover, daughter, friends, Brother. Yet she cried, for she knew Sovngarde would never await her.

 

_“Welcome home, my love.”_

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it. That's the end. I might revisit this story in someone else's point of view. If any of you have an suggestions as to who, feel free to share.


End file.
